Unnamed Story
by Roaming Firefly
Summary: Sephiroth has been resurrected...again. This time however, he got caught up in the aftermath of the Deepground/Omega shenanigans and ended up in Hell...on a slave ship...along with a certain ex-Turk...plus other familiar faces. Vincent x Sephiroth. yaoi.
1. Prologue: Fallen Angel

Unnamed Story

**Author's Notes:** This is set just after Dirge of Cerberus. I've always thought of the spin-offs of FFVII as both a blessing and a curse on fanfic writers. On the one hand they gave us a lot more characters and ideas to work with, on the other they filled up a lot of the gaps that had once been free hunting grounds for creativity. So expect me to shamelessly take plenty of creative license on those.

To those who have reviewed my first fic, "Omake of an Unwritten Story", thank you all very much for your kind words and your encouragement. Unfortunately, I really don't plan on actually writing the unwritten story. This story here however, is like its 'baby-sister'. It borrows quite a few of the ideas from the unwritten story, but is simpler in pretty much every way since really, this is but a multi-chapter conspiracy to get certain stubborn bishies to sleep with each other XD

Also, English is not my first language, and verb tenses will be my eternal enemy DX

Anyways, enough with the babbling and on with the disclaimer and warnings! ...And then the story.

**Disclaimer:** Square Enix owns all their stuff, which includes all things Final Fantasy VII. Cross-over characters are owned by their own respective owners. To avoid spoiling, I will give more detailed disclaimers on those at the end of the chapters in which their names are revealed. I own nothing but my own stuff and make no money from this story whatsoever.

**Warnings:** Violence, eventual yaoi (male x male relationships/physical intimacy), threesomes and other naughty stuff. You have been warned.

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Prologue - Fallen Angel

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The silver warrior raged. He was fighting a losing battle, he knew that. But his stubborn heart refused to give up, not just like that. Not again. All around him, above him, behind him, _inside_ him, _she_ cooed, whispered and wrapped her tendrils around him and _through_ him. About them the green life force of the planet pulsed and ebbed and rushed upwards towards that huge winged WEAPON. Partially hidden in the green glow floated a familiar silver-haired form. His body.

How in Gaia do these blasted scientists keep popping up, seeming to have no other purpose than to clone him, he'll never know. But he knows through painful experience that if _she_ succeeds in dragging him to that body, he will have lost.

Perhaps he would have been better off to have dissolved into the Lifestream just like the countless souls around him. Maybe then he'll finally be free from _her_ and her constant presence. But by Gaia, he didn't want to let go. It's not fair. His entire life he'd been controlled, manipulated, used. Especially now that he had flowed with the countless souls of the Lifestream, seen flashes and visions of bits and pieces of their past lives, he knew with painful clarity that he had never truly lived, never been allowed to truly live. It's not fair. He never even found the answers he sought his whole life. Who was he? What was he? His parents...

_Listen to mother, love, mother will make it all alright..._

_No! You are NOT my mother! _The silver warrior snarled, but it was no use. The sweetly soothing voice never ceased and only grew louder as unseen tentacles dragged him closer and closer.

Why does she insist on having him? Why couldn't she just use the empty vessel herself and leave him alone?

Gentle laughter grated against his core, _Silly child, of course I am your mother. Who else could it be? _

He had no answer. She slipped her fingers into his sliver of weakness and tightened her hold.

_No! _The silver warrior screamed one last denial, before she laughed in triumph and pushed the unwilling spirit into the waiting body. Instantly the poisoned veins carried tainted blood to every cell in his body, strangling him, bending him to their will. Her voice reverberated in a deafening clamour in the confines of his skull. Her music rang its dissonance through every fibre of his body, dissolving his last resolves.

Suddenly, something shot past them, and _her_ music abruptly dimmed. Sephiroth blinked the eyes that were suddenly his again. But that thing was already speeding away, and the clamour rose once again.

He knew her goal. All this energy, the entire Lifestream, if she succeeds in absorbing it all into this body, then she will become unstoppable. A God. Unrestrained. Undying. And there was nothing he could do to stop her.

Vaguely, through eyes that were still partly his, he became aware that the _thing_ had passed the WEAPON and has stopped right in its path. What is it? What is it doing? Doesn't it know that if it didn't get out of the way of the WEAPON soon, it will be destroyed?

_It doesn't matter love, all that matters are you and me now_. Jenova's soft, unseen fingers clawed into his mind, dragging his thoughts away from him. But somehow, Sephiroth was able to keep his eyes on the _thing_, as they, along with the rest of the Lifestream came closer and closer...

_Vincent?_ He didn't know why that name came to him so easily. Or how he had recognized him in his demonic form. But he didn't get a chance to dwell on these mysteries for in the next moment, the winged demon raised an impressive-looking gun, and fired.

The impact was unlike anything he had felt before. He was...very impressed. Jenova was screaming inside his head. All her triumph was falling away from them, back down to the planet. Vincent was falling too. His body had shrank back to his thin human form, limp and lifeless as it was buffeted this way and that by the residue shockwaves.

_No!_ Sephiroth's eyes widened. His wing unfurled from his back, and he fought against both the shockwaves and Jenova's screams to reach the crimson, fragile form. For a moment it felt as though he would fail. Jenova's grip on him was still very strong, and his shoulders, chest and wings ached from the strain of having to fight through wave after wave of energy. But then suddenly, two pairs of hands gently pushed him from behind. He wasn't able to take a look at who it was though, for it took every last ounce of his strength, both mind and body, just to reach out towards the pale gunman.

_**Floating inside a tank of mako green, the pale man stirred. Crimson eyes opened and stared straight into his soul. His lips moved.**_

"**Sephiroth."**

Sephiroth gasped at the sudden memory and stared into crimson eyes that were now open and staring back at him in astonishment. His hand was clamped tight around a gauntleted claw. For a moment, they just stayed there, frozen in time. Then suddenly, a blinding flash of light washed everything in white. And then everything was falling, falling...

* * *

Sephiroth let out a groan. He forced his aching shoulder to work and dragged his hand under his body in an attempt to push himself off the ground, then abruptly stopped. His hand...his shoulder...they were _his_ again... Sephiroth held very still and listened. No music, no whispers, nothing. Jenova was gone. Well, not quite. Her presence was still there, but it was faint, distant. The presence that had once encompassed his entire existence was now not even half as substantial to him as the faint breeze that brushed his skin. Sephiroth counted his own breathing and tried to convince himself that this was real. He tried to move again and found that his other hand was still tightly clamped to a certain gauntleted gunman.

Vincent Valentine. That was his name. Sephiroth remember seeing him with the rest of Cloud's ragtag group. He remembered that the gunman fought like a Turk, though that must have been a past occupation seeing that he never wore the uniform and was fighting as a member of AVALANCHE.

"_**Pitiful Turk, even now you insist upon interfering with my genius." Hojo sneered as he jabbed his bony finger into a button on the control panel. The pale demon in the mako tank screamed.**_

Sephiroth blinked at the memory. He had _definitely_ seen this man before...in the lab... Right now the man was lying motionless beside him, his eyes closed, his face deathly pale.

"By Gaia, you had better not be dead." the former general muttered under his breath as he placed his fingers against the ex-Turk's neck to check for a pulse. He wasn't. Good. There are some questions that Sephiroth would very much like to ask him. But with the circumstances as they are, that'll have to wait.

Sephiroth sat back and studied his surroundings. He was in a barren land littered all over the place by large, strangely shaped jagged rocks. The sky was heavily overcast; the invisible sun cast its cheerless light from behind thick layers of clouds the colour of sickly yellow. Silver brows furrowed. He had travelled the planet quite extensively in the past—not to mention his clones, and no where that he remembered resembled this strange landscape.

A movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. He heightened his senses and listened to the wind. There...an exhale of breath. And there...the faint sound of a footstep. Not human. Very big, very heavy. And there are more of them. From all directions.

Sephiroth slowly and carefully wrapped his arms around the unconscious ex-Turk, trying his best to not let their stalkers know that they've been detected. Then in an explosion of movement, a black wing shot out from his back and he took into the air.

Instantly dark shapes leaped out from their hiding places behind the rocks. Their strange dog-like outlines did not belong to any creature that Sephiroth knew, but what he _could_ recognize told him quite enough. These creatures were huge, had _sharp_ claws and teeth...and wings.

Sephiroth was already tired and sore from his earlier struggles to reach Vincent, and the awkward weight of the unconscious man wasn't much help either. Two of those dog-creatures soon closed in on him and knocked him from the sky. Gritting his teeth and tightening his wings about himself, Sephiroth used the force of the impact to fuel a fast dive. Upon landing he twisted and rolled so that he ended up with his back against a sheer rocky cliff that rose straight from the ground. It wasn't an ideal position but it was good enough for the situation at hand. At least this way he could not be ambushed from the back and the tilt of the cliff prevented attacks from directly above. The former general deposited his unconscious burden to the ground behind him and called for Masamune.

The katana was there, but it was distant, almost as distant as Jenova. Its answer to his call came from somewhere far away through what felt like a twisted, folded maze. Sephiroth knew that he could still summon it if he could just concentrate and find the right path, but there was no time for that. The dog-creatures that had knocked him from the sky were already diving towards him, and the rest weren't far behind.

As luck would have it, there on the ground was a hard, long, flat piece of rock in rough shape of a sword. Sephiroth grabbed it and swung just as a crimson, sharp-toothed maw opened before his face. Blood splattered into the air. The force of the swing sent an arc of pressurized air sweeping forward, catching the creature right in the soft tissues that connected the top and bottom jaw. The creature screamed in pain as it was knocked backwards into another one behind it, and both landed hard into another group further behind. But three others immediately replaced them and came at Sephiroth from a different angle. Sephiroth sent arc after arc of pressurized air into the oncoming attackers, but the piece of rock was truly a poor substitute for Masamune—it was already cracking and crumbling at the edges from the force being put upon it—and the dog-creatures were fast, tough, vicious, and numerous. Sephiroth searched within himself for the power that had been there along with Jenova's possession, and found that like Masamune, they too were present but distant. Sephiroth cursed under his breath. The dog-creatures kept up their relentless assault, and were fast closing in and surrounding him. They'll be upon him in minutes if he doesn't think of something soon.

...

Vincent blinked in an attempt to force his eyes into focus. He could hear sounds of battle very close to him, and his instincts were screaming at him to get up on his feet. The blurry lines wavered for some moments before finally converging upon themselves to reveal a most astonishing scene: Sephiroth, the supposedly dead ex-general, was standing with his back towards him, and was fighting off dozens upon dozens of huge, strange-looking creatures with a sword-shaped rock. The ex-Turk quickly scrambled to a crouching position. Mako-green eyes flashed back at him at the movement.

"So you're awake," grunted the ex-general and former world-destroyer as he slashed at another group of attacking creatures with his rock and then spun around to kick away one that had come up from his side, "care to help?"

It seems that there's no time at the moment to dwell on the strangeness of it all. Vincent quickly took stock of the situation and reached for his holster. It was empty. Cerberus was nowhere to be found. But like all good Turks, Vincent never relied on just the one gun. He drew Quicksilver from his boot and fired at any attacker that came too close and tried to flank his unlikely defender.

Fortunately, he had a Lightning materia linked with an Elemental materia in the small handgun and had a good supply of extra ammo on his belt, and the electrically-charged bullets were having a decent effect on the strange creatures. Sephiroth was obviously experienced with battling alongside ranged fighters, for he altered his position and his strikes accordingly to better work with Vincent's shots.

For a moment Vincent and Sephiroth's combined efforts were showing some success, but then the creatures also changed strategy. They reorganized their formation and harassed the two fighters from all sides, but this time, their attacks were less forceful. They danced back and forth, charging in but then quickly leaping out of the way as soon as the fighters retaliate. A knot of unease settled in Vincent's gut, and from the look on Sephiroth's face and the way his mako eyes scanned between the darting creatures, the former general was also aware that something was amiss. Just then, the creatures that had kept constant pressure on them suddenly leaped away, revealing behind them a group of their comrades who apparently had grown spikes on their tails. Those creatures spun and whipped those said tails, and the said spikes shot out in a rain of death upon the two fighters.

Sephiroth cursed as he fought to keep those spikes from himself as well as from the defenseless ex-Turk with his clumsy piece of rock. But those spikes came hard and fast, and, with a sickening sound, one embedded itself in his shoulder just as another one went into his calf. The silver general faltered from the injury, and the dog-creatures quickly took advantage of the opening and rushed upon the wounded warrior. As he was forced onto the ground by the crushing weight of one of those creatures, Sephiroth caught sight of another barreling into the ex-Turk, knocking the slender man hard into the wall of rock behind him. Then two more jumped onto the ex-Turk and buried him from Sephiroth's sight.

Vincent gritted his teeth against the explosion of pain in his chest. If he wished to survive this, he'll have to risk a transformation. Chaos was still out cold from their battle with Omega, and the other demons were drained too. None of them had much energy to spare, so whichever one of the demons he chooses to transform into had better be able to make a difference. Vincent glared into the open jaws that dripped saliva down onto his face, drew together every last bit of energy that he had left in him, and transformed.

Sephiroth grinned in relief when red light flashed from underneath the pile of dog-creatures, which was then flung into the air as Galian Beast roared into being. Not missing a beat, the ex-general used the distraction to jam his powerful boots into tender underbellies and quickly ridded himself of the dog-creatures that were pinning him down.

Galian Beast roared again and sent a barrage of fireballs into the surrounding dog-creatures. The creatures quickly scrambled away. Sephiroth's eyes flashed. The dog-creatures were vulnerable to the demon's fire attacks!

"Beast!" Sephiroth called, recklessly hoping that the wildly-attacking purple-black monster possessed some semblance of sense, "If you can understand me, aim your fireballs at those ones!" He pointed to a group of dog-creatures that had re-gathered their bearings and was coming at them from the air in full charge. Golden eyes darted to him, then the beast did as was told.

Sephiroth aimed a swing of his make-shift weapon after the fireballs; the pressurized air made the fire flare out in an angry arc as it swept towards the oncoming attackers. It hit the charging dog-creatures head-on, sending their great bodies aflame as they came crashing down on their comrades on the ground.

The purple-black monster quickly caught on, and soon the area was flooded by wave after wave of fiery arcs and the rank stink of burning fur. It was not long before the surviving dog-creatures realized that their advantage had been lost and scampered away to find easier prey.

Sephiroth allowed the long sword-shaped rock to crumble from his hand, then he gingerly pulled the spikes from his shoulder and calf. A stream of blood came gushing out after each spike, but he wasn't worried—his enhanced healing would take care of that before it became anything too serious. A cold metallic click drew his attention to the ex-Turk that now crouched behind him, his gun pointed at his heart. Sephiroth could tell from the ragged sound of his breathing that the ex-Turk was in poor condition, but those crimson eyes were steady and determined as they bore into the ex-general.

"How are you alive? And where is this place?" the ex-Turk's voice came out in a harsh whisper.

Sephiroth slowly turned around to face the gunman. He stared straight back into those cold crimson eyes, hoping that the gesture would convince the ex-Turk of his honesty.

"Your guess is as good as mine. But in case you are wondering: no I am not insane and I am not planning on destroying the world."

The ex-Turk was quiet for a few moments as he weighed the former general's words.

"What of Jenova?"

"Gone." Sephiroth wasn't going to waste words explaining the details, especially not when the ex-Turk clearly looked like he wasn't ready to believe him. On the plus side, his once-enemy hadn't shot him in the back...yet. Perhaps he could see it as a sign that their recent co-operation and the state of the ex-Turk's injuries will eventually convince Valentine to be a little less hostile.

Suddenly, before their conversation could go any further, large heavy nets opened up from their flanks and forced them to the ground. Strange energy coursed through the metallic ropes. Sephiroth struggled to stay awake long enough to catch a glimpse of humanoid shapes coming towards them, and then everything went black


	2. Chapter 1: Awakening

**Disclaimer:** Please see the Prologue

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Chapter 1 - Awakening

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When Sephiroth next came to awareness, it was to the familiar rocking motion of a boat, and the sound of breathing from a dozen or so bodies around him. True to his SOLDIER training, his first reaction was to pretend to be still asleep and let his senses assess what they could of his surroundings, but it was quickly ruined by an enthusiastically whispered "Hey! He's awake!" It seems that he'll have to be on his guard. Whoever was with him may prove to be competent opponents. But much more importantly...that voice! Sephiroth knew it well. The owner of that voice had died a long time ago.

Sephiroth opened his eyes to the sight of Zack Fair's huge steel-blue eyes only inches away from his own.

"Good morning! Or at least I assume it's still morning. The name's Fenris by the way. Mind telling me yours?" the spiky-haired young man offered Sephiroth a wide friendly smile. Sephiroth only stayed still and stared. Yes, this was definitely Zack, from the messy gravity-defying hair to the puppy-like enthusiasm to the slightly lop-sided tilt of his smile. But he also had a pair of wolf-like ears standing at attention on the top of his head...which were now starting to droop along with his smile from Sephiroth's continued silence.

"...'Fenris'?" Sephiroth asked warily, and those ears instantly perked back up.

"That's right! So...what should I call _you_?"

Sephiroth stared at the wolf-eared young man who could only be Zack yet can't possibly be Zack, who called himself 'Fenris', and who's ears and beaming face were again starting to droop from the prolonged silence.

"...Sephiroth." Sephiroth finally decided to answer, and once again those ears perked back up... only to drop down again as the young man realized the long string of strange syllables that he was now expected to pronounce.

"Se...Sepher...S-Sephi...Sefff... Err... how about I just call you 'Seph'?" the wild-haired one gave a sheepish grin, revealing four sharp, elongated canines.

Not really caring about the butchering of his name and choosing to temporarily set aside his questions, Sephiroth decided that it was more important for him to continue assessing his surroundings. He moved to sit up, and found that he was chained. That wasn't surprising. More concerning however, was that his limbs felt abnormally weak and each movement was taking much more energy than it should.

"It's the slave collar," as if reading his thoughts, Zack...Fenris tapped the metal band around his own neck as he explained, "it's loaded with spells and hexes that makes you weak, stops you from using magic, and controls any transformations that you might have. And they can all be turned on and off at will by its owner. Heck, I'm even tempted to praise the ingenuity of the sick bastard who invented these things...almost."

"Slave collar?" Sephiroth frowned as he reached for his own neck to find that indeed, he too had been collared with a metal band that had strange markings engraved on its surface. A heavy chain was attached to it on one end, and on the other end, to an even heavier chain that ran along the floor. There were more metal bands, though without any markings on his wrists and ankles. Both the chains between the ankles and the wrists gave almost no slack for movement, and his wrists were also bound close to his chest by a short chain that attached them to his collar. Other than his chains and shackles, he was completely naked. Zack...Fenris...and the other occupants who shared the metal cage that currently housed him were all attired in the same manner. Sephiroth felt a strange mix of relief and apprehension when his scanning eyes found Vincent to be amongst said fellow occupants.

Stripped of his usual layers of clothes, the ex-Turk looked especially pale and fragile. The scars that criss-crossed his chest matched very closely to the ones on the pale man he remembered in the mako tank...

"He was brought here together with you," said Zack...Fenris, "do you know each other?" Sephiroth nodded without shifting his attention from the unconscious but relatively uninjured form of the ex-Turk. Sephiroth had already judged that all of his own open wounds have healed to a decent degree, but he was still several days from ideal condition. Likely the ex-Turk was much the same way. Their rough introduction to this strange land had drained more energy than Sephiroth cared to think about from the both of them. They would not be making their escape any time soon. And then there's the problem of finding the new path to summoning Masamune. No way that a piece of rock was going to be able to cut them out of those chains.

Fenris waited patiently for Sephiroth to elaborate. When met with only more silence, he simply dropped it and continued on: "Both of you were pretty roughed up. He got it a little worse than you did. But like you, he's been healing quite well and should be waking up in a day or two." Sephiroth acknowledged him with another nod and continued to survey his surroundings.

They were in a very long and narrow room with a low ceiling. Two rows of cages lined the walls. The thick chain on the floor that his collar was attached to ran through all the cages and was attached to all the other miserable souls in said cages who were, like him, naked and bound. The cages were spaced so that their prisoners could not reach into an adjacent cage, and a "corridor" was formed from the somewhat wider space between the opposing rows.

The cage that he was in was at the end of the room. A door was a long way down on the other end. In the cage opposite of his were thin, willowy humanoid creatures with pale greenish skin and what looked like vines for hair. The ceiling above them was slanted in a wedge shape and had a few thin rectangular openings that let in the sunlight. That was the only source of light in the room.

In the cage next to his was a group of small, ugly, imp-like creatures with huge ears and savage, pale-yellow eyes. Opposite of them and next to the plant-creatures was a cage containing what looked like two human children. They looked no older than fourteen. The girl had long golden hair and innocent green eyes. The boy's hair was an odd bluish-silver, and he had a pair of tattoos on the sides of his neck. Upon noticing Sephiroth's attention, the girl shrank tighter into the ball she made of herself while the boy shifted his body between her and Sephiroth and leveled the older man with a cold glare with his large crystal-blue eyes.

In the cage further down next to the children stood a lone centaur who was at the moment, studying Sephiroth right back. Other than the horse-like lower body, the centaur looked exactly like Angeal.

"What, never seen a centaur before?" centaur-Angeal raised an eyebrow and pulled his lips into a mildly amused grin; his black tail gave a short swipe behind his hoofed legs.

"That's N'geal. He was once a soldier in the Archdaemon of Fourth Circle's army," said Za...Fenris with a touch of admiration, "taught me quite a few things that helped me stay out of trouble around here...and about the only person around here who actually talks..." Zack...Fenris grumbled as he tossed a look of mock-hurt at the ones who shared their cage—two young men with cold demeanors and silver hair.

Sephiroth willed himself to stay in his usual stoic calm. "Za...Fenris... ...where are we?"

"Somewhere in Hell," Zack...no..._Fenris_ shrugged, "Can't tell exactly where at the moment, but we are heading for Junon, Fifth Circle's biggest trading port."

"And...what is the purpose of this journey?" Sephiroth asked even though he was certain that he already had a fair guess.

"Merchanting." the wolf-eared young man answered casually, "And we..." he made a sweeping gesture that encompassed the long rows of cages, "...are the commodity."


	3. Chapter 2: Companions

**Author's Notes:** Thank you all for your reviews! I'm glad that quite a few of you liked the battle scene. To tell the truth battle scenes are actually one of my shakiest points. I actually wrote chapter 1 before I wrote the prologue simply because I dreaded the battle scene. I'm happy that it turned out alright though.

So here's a short chapter. Hope you'll enjoy. Next chapter will be longer and more exciting ^_^;

Vincent: Maybe a bit too exciting...

Author: Oh pshhh!

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Chapter 2 - Companions

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Apparently being property to one of Hell's best slave merchants had some benefits. They were well-fed, well-watered, and their surroundings were kept clean. This is because, as Fenris had explained, top slave merchants, like the one who currently owns them, cater to the richest, most powerful demon lords of Hell. And those were a finicky bunch. They won't tolerate filth or disease, and they want nothing but the best, strongest, healthiest stock. Fenris had been in the last slave market, but he got into some trouble and didn't catch any buyer's eyes. One of the bits and pieces of optimism that he had somehow managed to find in his sorry situation was the fact that he was at least not enduring the horrendous conditions that he had seen in the lesser slave merchants' holdings. The downside was that their future owners also had a reputation for being the cruelest and most volatile of slave masters in Hell.

"Not all of them are like that—well, some of them are even worse," Fenris grimaced, "but there are some that are kinder than others. I hope I get lucky and get bought by one of the better ones... otherwise..." Wolf-ears flattened against spiky hair as the young man gave a shudder.

"I wouldn't recommend an escape attempt, especially not in your condition," warned Fenris upon catching Sephiroth testing the strength of his chains and the bars of the cage, his normally playful face serious and severe, "I can smell the scent of lingering injuries in you. And don't underestimate the slave-trader. He handles the strongest slaves for the most powerful demons. And he definitely did not get to where he is by his looks."

One of Sephiroth's silver brows arched in amusement: the slave merchant who currently controlled their fates was a wrinkly ugly thing. According to N'geal, his name sounded something like 'Gooey-Duck'. Sephiroth first saw him during feeding time.

Their food was nothing but brownish pellets. The pellets were put in a tray, which was then put on the floor and slid into the cages between the bars. With their hands bound to their collars, to reach the food the slaves had to lower their bodies to the ground in a submissive posture. Gooey-Duck made no attempt to hide his enjoyment of this, and the food was taken away as soon as either he was bored with it or the slaves have stopped taking food from the trays. The same was done for water. Sephiroth had given serious thought on abstaining from food and water to spare his pride, but gritted his teeth when he concluded that the sooner he can recover his strength, the sooner he can find a way to escape this place. The unabashedly smug look on the slave trader's repulsive face when he noted the submission of his new slave was absolutely infuriating. Sephiroth scowled darkly as he chewed the tasteless handful that he had quickly grabbed before retreating to the furthest side of the cage. Being bound and humiliated like this was bringing up too many memories of his early days growing up in ShinRa labs. Sephiroth brutally shoved them back down to the depths of his psyche.

His cell-mates retrieved their rations in much the same way, their faces showing varying degrees of distain, with Fenris's showing the least. The two silver-haired boys who shared their cage both looked to be around sixteen years of age. The look in their eyes and the way they moved however, revealed awareness and discipline beyond their physical age. Sephiroth knew a fellow warrior when he saw one.

According to Fenris, the one who had yellow cat-like eyes, thick long hair, and a pair dog ears sitting on the top of his head was named 'Inuyasha'; and the one who had short hair, blue eyes and a demonic claw in place of his right hand was called 'Nero'. Sephiroth glanced at the still form of the ex-Turk. His gauntlet had been taken off along with the rest of his heavy layers of clothing, and his once-hidden purplish-black demonic claw was now lying in sharp contrast against his pale scarred chest. The ex-Turk wouldn't be needing to hide his claw here though. Or his scars. All the other occupants of the cage sported scars of some sort, some nastier than others. Inuyasha looked like he had once been run through the stomach by a jagged pole the circumference of a fist by the look of the scars on his abdomen and his back. So apparently—Sephiroth noted sardonically—in Hell, the realm of demons, monsters like himself and Valentine fit right in.

Other than their names, Sephiroth knew very little about the two youths. Neither of them spoke much and they both kept mostly to themselves—a wise course of action given the circumstances...unlike Fenris, who was again chatting away beside the silver general. Aside from a few obvious differences, Fenris was exactly like how Zack had been when Sephiroth first met him—right down to the hair style. His eyes still shone with the youthful, naive optimism that later dimmed and tempered after Angeal's death. It made sense...in a way...since this world's version of Angeal was trotting around his cage just a few paces away. Although...even though Zack had always been out-going and talkative, Sephiroth didn't remember him to have ever talked quite as much as Fenris. ...Perhaps Fenris didn't just have a wolf's ears, but also a wolf's need for a pack? Considering the "company" that Fenris had available around him: plant-creatures who communicated with each other by intertwining their vine-like hair together, imps that were little more than smarter-than-average beasts; the silent Inuyasha and Nero, the two frightened and withdrawn children, and the slaves beyond N'geal's cage who were too far away...perhaps the wolf-eared young man had reason to be a little excessively sociable.

"Hey... if I'm talking your ears off, you can tell me you know. I can shut up." Zack...Fenris gave an apologetic smile and a casual shrug. Sephiroth's eyes lingered on those expressive, treacherous ears and those painfully familiar steel-blue eyes.

"No...you're not..." the silver general answered quietly as he looked away.

Fenris took a moment to get over his surprise at the seemingly cold and aloof man's response, then a genuine smile spread across his youthful face.

"Thanks. You know Seph, you're an alright guy."

Just then, the ship they were in gave a lurch as it slowly came to a stop.

"Are we there already?" Fenris frowned.

"I don't think so," said N'geal as he studied the daylight above the plant-creatures's cage, "it doesn't look like we have yet left the Wastelands."

Fenris hummed at that and went to one corner of the cage. There he pried open one of the floorboards to reveal what looked like an air-vent about the size of a palm.

"Hey, K-6, you there?" Fenris tapped lightly on the vent and then pressed his ear to it. A faint muffled voice answered him through the vent. Sephiroth's eyebrows drifted upwards: the voice sounded at lot like that annoying robot cat that had fought with a megaphone and a moogle alongside Cloud.

"What did you do _this_ time that landed you in Solitary again?" Fenris chuckled. From the vent came a long, impassioned tirade of muffled words that Sephiroth couldn't make out and Fenris didn't bother to listen to. Instead he turned to Sephiroth and explained: "K-6 is a Mecha cat. You know, one of those fully independent robots with advanced A.I. and integrated personalities. This one seems to have a few bolts loose up there though, so to speak. He 's a bit...quirky, and keeps getting into trouble with other slaves. Even other Mechas. Gooey-Duck keeps having to move him to the Solitary Room before trying to put him in a different cage. Don't see why he bothers though," Fenris shrugged, "Solitary's practically K-6's permanent home anyways."

"And you're his only friend?" Sephiroth allowed one corner of his lips to quirk up a little. Fenris's cheeks coloured.

"What can I say? It's hard to find good conversation around here."

"Or another creature who can blab about nothing for as much or as long." muttered Nero.

"Love you too Nero." Fenris promptly flipped up one of his fingers—an obscene gesture, Sephiroth assumed—at the demon-clawed youth and turned back to the vent.

Although Fenris and K-6 kept going off on tangents and "blab about nothing" every chance they got, to the detriment of everyone else's sanity (though Sephiroth suspected that the two might have been doing it on purpose just to spite Nero), the Mecha cat proved to be an invaluable informant. Apparently the Solitary Room had a window that K-6 could see out of—in case its prisoner were a plant-creature. And the robot feline had incredible hearing and could spy to a certain degree on their captors from the sounds he hears traveling along the various pipes that ran through the ship. It was therefore no surprise to them when Gooey-Duck and his lackeys came in with a groaning, half-conscious, newly-captured slave, whom they then unceremoniously tossed into the empty cage opposite of N'geal's.

It was Genesis. Although he had red scales along his spine and on his forearms, black talons on his fingers and toes, and a long scaly tail, it was definitely Genesis. Sephiroth's elegant brows furrowed. Beside him, Fenris gave a low whistle: "A firedrake! I've never seen one this close before!" Even Nero and Inuyasha moved closer to get a better look.

As soon as the firedrake regained some of his bearings, he lashed out violently against his bonds. Bursts of flames rolled with deadly intent towards the slavers, only to bounce harmlessly off the ensorcelled cage bars. Gooey-Duck and his lackeys laughed in Genesis's face and cruelly taunted the helpless captive.

Sephiroth's jaw tightened. Behind the cackling slavers, N'geal shot a stern look in his direction and subtly shook his head. Sephiroth wasn't sure for whom it was meant, for it was clear that none of his cellmates liked the display any better than he did, and they were showing it much more obviously.

Mercifully, Genesis's weakened body soon gave out and he fell into an exhausted heap on the floor. The rest of the day he just laid there and refused to speak to anyone. When feeding time came Gooey-Duck purposely shoved the food tray into the firedrake's cage so that it hit his head with a resounding "BANG!" Genesis roared in rage and smacked the tray back out with his tail, spraying Gooey-Duck, and subsequently N'geal, with the brown pellets. Gooey-Duck wasn't the least bit fazed however. He casually flicked his wrist and splashed the tray of water across Genesis's face. Apparently firedrakes were not fond of water, for Genesis instantly flinched away. Gooey-Duck cooly regarded the drenched, coughing and sputtering brunette and chuckled darkly, "Good...very good... you will fetch me a good price yet... but before that... you _will_ bow for me."

Ignoring Genesis's glare, the slave merchant continued down the rows of cages, basking in the forced obeisances of his helpless merchandise.

* * *

**Additional Disclaimers:** Inuyasha of the manga and anime franchise of the same name belong to Rumiko Takahashi. Nero of the video game series Devil May Cry belong to either Capcom, Ubisoft, or Hideki Kamiya, or all of the above. So basically, none of this roomful of bishies belong to me and I make no money from them. The only character I can really claim ownership to is…

Gooey-Duck: I'm yours baby~

Author: …

….

T_T


	4. Chapter 3: Nightmare

**Author's Notes:** Once again, thank you for your reviews! Yes, I remember my account-less days lurking around, when the stories I've been following get updated, it's like Christmas for me too :D After I made an account I found the Story Alerts and Author Alerts functions, and it made things quite a bit easier :)

So here's a slightly longer and more exciting chapter. Hope you'll enjoy :) My subsequent updates won't come this fast though. The first few chapters were on the tips of my fingers, just waiting to be written, but now is about the time I start running into writer's blocks, I think :D But don't worry, I know how it feels to have a story you like get discontinued. And for all your support, whatever happens, I'll try my best to see this crazy multi-chapter-conspiracy-to-get-certain-stubborn-bishies-to-sleep-with-each-other finished.

**Warnings: **Violence, blood, torture

* * *

Chapter 3 - Nightmare

* * *

Night finally fell over the slave ship. The stars that Sephiroth could see through the slits above the plant-creatures were not organized into any constellation that he recognized, but he expected as much. The light that the slits allowed in was faint, but it was enough for Sephiroth's enhanced eyes to see all he needed.

All was quiet, except for the clinking of chains from Genesis's continuing efforts to escape his bindings, and the sound of heavy, ragged breathing from the sleeping ex-Turk. Sephiroth watched as the demon-ridden man battled his nightmares. Whatever Valentine was dreaming of, it was sure to be a dreamscape in which Sephiroth knew he wouldn't want to walk.

"Should we wake him? It looks pretty bad from here." Fenris asked worriedly. Sephiroth shook his head. His own memories of the things he'd seen in Hojo's lab and his own nightmares during his time there surfaced unpleasantly in his mind.

"He'll get through it. If we wake him now, he may not thank you for it."

Fenris nodded in understanding and sat back. Unfortunately it was at this inopportune moment that Genesis chose to let out a roar of frustration and directed all his fury onto the chain that ran between his collar and the thick chain on the floor. The thick chain that bound him—and everybody else—pulsed with energy before sending it right back to all the collars that were attached to it. Everybody jerked as bolts of energy ripped through their bodies, but it was clear that Genesis was the one who got the worst of it. The pain from the rebound only put the firedrake into an enraged frenzy, and soon the room was filled with flashes of fire and red energy and agonized screams of all its occupants as Genesis screamed in pain and fury and recklessly attacked the chain again and again.

"STOP! You'll destroy us all!" N'geal's voice rose above the deafening clamour.

"Leave me be!" snarled Genesis, "If I must face my destruction, then I shall willingly accept my fate...but I'll not be afraid to take the world with me!" The firedrake threw one last ball of pure-white fury at the unyielding chain, before the backlash and exhaustion finally overcame him and he collapsed into unconsciousness.

The whole room stank of heated metal and pain and sweat. Most of the plant-creatures were out cold; the two children only stayed in the conscious world for their own coughing and trembling; the imps were in a screeching frenzy. N'geal and those in Sephiroth's cage fared better than most, but Sephiroth knew that the crisis was not yet over. Vincent was now awake, and the look in those gold-flecked red eyes was NOT one that the ex-general had hoped for.

Sephiroth barely had time to curse under his breath before the pale gunman let out a soul-rending, inhuman roar.

—

Vincent woke to pain and the sounds of suffering. His unfocused eyes made out the blurred shapes of cages and deformed humanoid creatures around him; the familiar cold of shackles bit into his skin. Shadows of his nightmare of being back in Hojo's lab flitted across his vision. In unison, he and his demons screamed their denial. They thrashed violently against their restraints, not caring when skin broke and bone crackled.

"SHIT! We have to stop him!" A youthful voice reached his ears through his delirium, then warm weights dropped onto his legs and torso and strong calloused hands attempted to hold him down. Vincent bucked and fought them tooth and nail, and when it became clear his own strength was not enough, he called upon the aid of his demons. Both man and demons gasped in disbelieve when they found their transformation painfully _blocked_ by some sort of magic barrier that originated from somewhere in the vicinity of his neck. Chaos roared in outrage as he sent a wave of destructive energy in an attempt to break the barrier. The resulting clash of magics sent jolts of agony through their damaged body and elicited harsh curses from those that held him down.

"You better find a way to make him stop! The slave-trader will be here any second!" a low masculine voice hissed from some distance away.

"He's coming! He's coming! I can hear him!" a young female voice whimpered.

"Damn it Valentine! I know you can hear me, so listen! I don't know what you've been dreaming, but you are NOT where you think you are! Quit struggling or we'll _all_ suffer the consequences!"

A familiar face swam into view. Sephiroth. Vincent blinked. He glanced about and caught the glint of silver hair on the blurry shapes of the young men who were holding him down. Vincent's eyes widened: _NO_... Energy buzzed about the ex-Turk's body as he and his demons prepared to fight for their lives.

"BY GAIA...VALENTINE!"

Vincent's fragmented mind barely registered the sound of a door handle being turned before the world came to a screeching halt when he felt Sephiroth's surprisingly soft lips pressed upon his own.

—

Sephiroth didn't know what made him do what he did, but they were fast running out of options. He had considered knocking out the delirious ex-Turk, but there was no telling how effective his weakened and bound limbs would be against the demon-enhanced man. Should he fail to knock him out in one hit, the best case scenario would be that the ex-Turk would think he was being attacked and intensify his struggles; the worst case scenario would be that Valentine would be knocked out, but his demons not, leaving Gaia knows how many confused and angry demons for them to deal with.

One couldn't argue with the results though, for Valentine instantly stilled, and just in time too: Gooey-Duck and his lackeys came charging into the room but a fraction of a second later.

The old demon's beady eyes immediately trained onto the still-warm bars of Genesis's cage.

"Well what have we here?" the slave merchant sneered at the firedrake, who was now just regaining his consciousness and was struggling to his feet.

"Strap him down." Gooey-Duck ordered his lackeys, then went to check on the other slaves.

All of the men in Sephiroth's cage held perfectly still as they watched Gooey-Duck turn to the cages in the opposite direction. Then suddenly Fenris muttered an apology to Vincent and started to lick furiously at the ex-Turk's bleeding wrists. Vincent, to his credit, stayed still and only watched the wolf-eared young man with wide eyes. To Sephiroth's surprise, Inuyasha soon joined Fenris and began licking Vincent's ankles in similar enthusiasm.

"What are you doing?" Sephiroth whispered, not bothering to hide the incredulity from his voice.

"The imps, they're reacting to the scent of blood. If we don't clean it off, and if Gooey-Duck finds out that...Va-len-tine...has tried to escape, whether it was in his right mind or not, then things will get VERY nasty." Fenris barely stopped his licking as he hurriedly explained.

Sephiroth turned to the imps' cage to see that indeed, the savage little creatures' eyes where beginning to glow, their fangs were bared, and their pained screeches were turning into excited, predatory snarls. Sephiroth cursed inwardly when Gooey-Duck's long ears twitched and dark beady eyes turned toward their direction. Even in the short time he'd spent here, he had seen enough of Gooey-Duck's antics to at least partially understand Fenris's urgency. And the dark, predatory look in the slave trader's eyes when he studied the firedrake looked uncomfortably similar to Hojo's when... The ex-general looked back at Vincent to find that even Nero had now joined the other two boys, and was hurriedly licking up the blood on the floor around Vincent. Gooey-Duck was beginning to advance their way, and although Vincent's enhanced healing has stopped the bleeding from his wounds, the gunman had practically shredded himself in his efforts to break free—at this rate they were not going to make it. Sephiroth cursed inwardly again at what he was going to have to do. He glared at the ex-Turk, _hard._

"Do NOT move Valentine. I will explain everything later." With that, the ex-general lowered his head and joined the young men. Vincent, for his part, could only remain frozen in place as his not-yet-fully-functioning brain struggled to process the bizarre scene.

Their combined efforts were soon paying off but the scent of blood did not lessen as much as it should. Puzzled, they turned Vincent onto his stomach to find deep still-seeping wounds on the back of his neck. The wounds did not puncture anything important but they will not be able to heal fast enough to stop bleeding in time. Gooey-Duck had by now reached the other side of the imps's cage and was studying the excited creatures. If he came to their cage now, then he would definitely be able to smell the scent of blood and know that something was amiss. Sephiroth felt, rather than heard his cellmates hold their breath as Gooey-Duck moved in their direction.

Suddenly, the blonde-haired girl started to bawl at the top of her lungs. Her volume was most impressive. Gooey-Duck snarled and yelled at her to shut up, which only turned her volume to an even higher notch. The bluish-haired boy yelled back at Gooey-Duck even as he tried to comfort his friend, which had Gooey-Duck spitting vicious threats at his insolence, and then N'geal launched into a lecture about honour and the treatment of children at the slave trader. Finally, the fuming slave merchant smacked his whip across their cages, sending sparks of energy crackling along the bars.

"ENOUGH!" he bellowed, "One more sound from any of you and I'll remove your worthless tongues!"

At that they all fell silent. Even the girl had managed to reduce her crying to a hitching sob. Gooey-Duck gave them all a final glare for good measure before he turned to check on the last two cages in the room...and found Fenris with his hands on one of the new slaves' rear.

...

Sephiroth let out a breath that he found himself holding. The commotion had distracted Gooey-Duck just long enough for Vincent's wound to clot. They had just finished cleaning off the rest of the blood when Gooey-Duck managed to silence the trio. Inuyasha and Nero retreated to their usual places at the back of the cage with a swiftness and smoothness that impressed even the ex-Turk. Fenris...not so much. The wolf-eared young man stumbled on his chains and ended up with his hands squarely on top of Vincent's bare, well-toned nether cheeks in his reflex to catch himself from his fall. Vincent stayed perfectly still.

"Wolfling! You with your rabid libido! Tone it down! You're agitating the worm-eaten imps!" Gooey-Duck barked.

Fenris quickly retrieved his offending hands. Gooey-Duck rolled his eyes and turned to leave, but suddenly paused and sniffed the air.

"Somebody's been bleeding in here." he fixed his hard, black eyes on the shackled men.

Nero shrugged towards Inuyasha: "Some _cat_ got spooked by the noise and scratched me when he panicked."

"I don't see any wounds on you," black beady eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I heal fast." Nero responded cooly.

Gooey-Duck didn't look completely convinced. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted when Inuyasha slammed into Nero, knocking them both to the ground.

"I'm a _dog_-hanyou you asshole! And I did NOT panic!"

"Then why do you have cat eyes and _panic_ like a mewling kitten you species-confused piece of dog shit!" Nero retaliated.

"Enough!" Gooey-Duck banged on their cage with his whip, "You're lucky I've more important matters to attend to, or I'd have all of you flayed!"

The two boys obediently stopped their wrestling and patiently waited in their respective positions until Gooey-Duck went out of earshot.

"'Species-confused piece of dog shit'?" Inuyasha cocked up an ear at the boy underneath him.

"You heard me. Now get off!" Nero grinned wickedly and shoved the dog-eared youth.

Inuyasha humphed and flicked a sharp claw across Nero's collarbone, earning himself a venomous glare.

"Well what do you know," Inuyasha sat back and smugly licked Nero's blood from his claw as he watched the shallow wound on the other boy close itself, "you _do_ heal fast."

Whatever Nero had planned to do then was cut short when Gooey-Duck began talking loudly so that all in the room could hear.

"Since both my new hybrids are now awake, let's make an example of you, shall we?" the slave-trader glanced back at them from Genesis's cage, "let this be a lesson to the rest of you on how we deal with wannabe escapees here."

==============================Scenes of torture ahead================================

The slave trader casually strolled into Genesis's cage. By this time his lackeys had had the firedrake chained spread-eagle on the floor. Genesis wasn't one to give up without a fight however; as soon as Gooey-Duck crouched down beside him, he opened his mouth to blast the slave trader with a face-full of flames. Gooey-Duck saw it coming though, and in a lightning-fast movement that gave lie to his old and decrepit appearance, he shoved a pump-like device into the open jaws and forced some kind of liquid down Genesis's throat.

"There, that should cool your fire for a while." the slave trader said calmly as Genesis gaged and chocked and convulsed against his shackles; whatever the liquid was was clearly causing him a lot of pain.

"You see, escaped merchandise is very bad for business..." Gooey-Duck handed the now-empty device back to one of his lackeys, then put his bony hands on Genesis's shoulder and twisted the joint out of its socket. Genesis adamantly refused to scream.

"...Not to mention for one's business reputation," Gooey-Duck continued to the other shoulder, "It's not easy making a living catering to the stringent demands of high-class clients you know..." the slave trader moved to the joint between Genesis's hips and thighs, hands lingering in their positions to let the helpless captive realize what was coming, "...and so I take escape attempts very, _very_..."

"Ngh!" Genesis couldn't quite smother his grunt of pain.

"...seriously," black beady eyes glinted evilly at the sweat-drenched face beneath them as bony hands pushed slowly but mercilessly against the other leg joint, "as well as personally."

Genesis struggled in vain as the joint was slowly and deliberately pushed out of its place. A sickening "pop" echoed through the room and Genesis's body shuddered limply under the slaver's cruel hands.

"Now that we're all set-up," Gooey-Duck stood up and undid Genesis's now-unneeded restraints, "let's begin, shall we?"


	5. Chapter 4: Human

**Author's Notes:** To my awesome reviewers: I see a few of you have zoomed-in on the kiss lol, but it might have been a tad _too_ distracting…I'm surprised that none of you mentioned the other thing: Sephiroth licked Vincent XD Now, Vincent was bleeding because his struggles made his shackles cut into his skin. So we have Fenris at the wrists, Inuyasha at the ankles, and Nero at the floor around him, so where does that leave Sephiroth then, hmm?

Anyways, on to the next chapter. Hope you'll enjoy~

* * *

Chapter 4 - Human

* * *

"You are the most obstinate, reckless person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing," the silver general shook his head as he checked over Vincent's injuries, "and believe me, I've had to deal with quite a number of such individuals in the past." Namely Genesis...and Zack. But Vincent Valentine was definitely the worst of them all, Sephiroth decided this moment.

Silence and darkness had once again enfolded the slave ship. Genesis now lay limp and unconscious in his cage; N'geal was leaning wearily on his; the children were huddled in a corner, the girl's quiet sobs occasionally breaking the heavy silence. The plant-creatures have mostly recovered and had since wrapped themselves tightly in their hair to resemble flower buds. The imps had by now calmed and were twitching in their sleep.

Sephiroth took a firm hold of Vincent's damaged wrist and felt the ex-Turk tense and draw back. Letting out an impatient sigh, Sephiroth snapped the dislocated joint back in place none too gently. The pale gunman barely flinched. The man had an impressive tolerance for pain, the ex-general had to give him that.

During Genesis's ordeal, the firedrake's body had instinctively released pulses of energy in protest of the torture that was being forced upon it. The thick chain then took it as an attack and returned it in kind to the writhing form, as well as to all the other slaves through their chained collars. Sephiroth was certain that Gooey-Duck had intended it to be this way.

Despite his earlier outburst, Vincent had maintained his usual calm demeanor through it all. When it was over and Sephiroth insisted that his injuries needed to be checked, the gunman adamantly refused. The silver general had to wrestle the stubborn ex-Turk into submission, as awkward as that was since both of them were restrained, not to mention naked. Just what in the name of Gaia had Valentine planned to do about his broken wrists without any help was beyond the ex-general. Or his cracked ribs. Granted, there wasn't very much that any of them could do about those at the moment, but Sephiroth knew that the ex-Turk had sustained heavy damage to his chest area during their fight with the dog-creatures, and his panicked thrashing might have done himself serious harm. Sephiroth listened to the barely perceptible hitches in Vincent's breathing as he ran firm fingers over the man's chest and along his sides. It would seem that the ex-Turk's internal injuries had been healing well. A few of the curved bones suffered minor cracks but nothing was broken or seriously out of place. They would heal on their own provided that the ex-Turk doesn't engage in any strenuous activities for the next few days or so, which was highly unlikely anyways given their current situation. The bruises that were forming over those cracked ribs might be more of a problem if they don't fade by morning. Depending on how bad the bruising looked by then, they just might have to try to convince Gooey-Duck that those bruises were acquired from rough sex with Fenris. Sephiroth's lips twitched in amusement at the thought.

Speaking of the young men, they too have proven to be more than capable of handling themselves in the face of pain and danger. That could either mean escape could be easier than Sephiroth had first estimated, or much, much more difficult. For now all three were sitting quietly watching the two men with curiosity.

Satisfied with his inspection, Sephiroth sat back and coolly regarded the ex-Turk. The gunman coldly glared back, his limbs gathered close about his body in a clearly defensive posture. Sephiroth resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Really, did the ex-Turk _really_ expect Sephiroth to attack him _now_? Right after all that licking the ex-general had to go through to save him from Gooey-Duck's sadistic paws?

"You said you would explain." the ex-Turk said quietly in his soft monotone. There was nothing soft about his crimson eyes however.

"I did." Sephiroth paused and let the silence stretch, but the crimson gaze remained steady and unfazed. Sephiroth smirked. It's been a while since someone could go toe-to-toe with him like this. For now, the silver general gave way.

"In short, we are in Hell. And I don't mean figuratively. This vessel belongs to a slave merchant. You saw him a moment ago, torturing that unfortunate firedrake who had failed in an escape attempt. He is currently transporting his cargo—us—to one of the major trading ports of Hell so that he may sell said cargo to demon lords. I'd suggest you refrain from doing another stunt like the one you did earlier. I've no wish to be tortured along with you." Sephiroth carefully watched as Vincent slowly digested that information. Silver brows furrowed slightly in puzzlement when the pale gunman simply relaxed and accepted it.

—

Vincent wasn't surprised that he'd end up in Hell. He wasn't even very surprised that he'd end up in Hell alongside Sephiroth, the child-turned-monster whose existence he had failed to prevent and whose life he could not save. It seemed a fitting penance. Except...Vincent was quite sure that he was not yet dead. In fact, his demons had quite vehemently confirmed that no, he wasn't dead. They also confirmed that Sephiroth was telling the truth when he claimed they were in Hell. The demons recognized the feel of the place. They've been here before, and it comforted them.

All of the demons' memories were fragmented, but Chaos and Galian Beast remembered the beings who shared their cage: the ones with animal ears were of a race of animal sorcerers who wielded great strength and power, and who could transform and take on human form; the one with a demonic arm was the progeny of a demon and its human mate. Vincent looked down at his own demonic arm. Unlike Sephiroth and the animal sorcerers, who had both their wrists bound by plain metal bands, the band around his demonic wrist was marked by elaborate symbols. A faint hum of power surrounded the shackle, and the arm it encircled felt numb and was barely capable of movement. Vincent looked to see the silver-haired boy's demonic arm bound the same way. If he remember correctly, he had heard the other young men call him 'Nero'. Noticing Vincent's attention, Nero flexed his demonic claws slightly and unflinchingly returned the gunman's gaze.

A faint tap sounded from somewhere under the floor. Vincent watched as the dark-haired young man's wolf-like ears twitched and as said young man removed one of the floorboards and pressed one of said ears to a vent on the floor.

"Hey cat... Yeah, Gooey-Duck caught someone trying to escape... We're all alright... It was a firedrake... I think he's going to be alright too, he's _very_ stubborn..."

The gunman blinked when he recognized the voice coming from the vent to be Cait Sith's. It did not go unnoticed by the silver general.

Just then, one of the imps kicked another in his sleep. The victim then woke up with an angry screech and proceeded to savage the offender. Their bout of violence only lasted a few seconds or so, as both imps vented their outrage and then settled back down to sleep. The noises they made however, were terrible, and it drove the already sobbing and shaking blonde-haired girl into a wailing cry.

"Hey hey..." said Fenris softly as he moved to the front of the cage to get closer, "it's alright, those imps were just bickering, they won't hurt you, see?"

Hearing Fenris's soft voice, the girl's crying quieted a little and she looked up at the wolf-eared young man from her desperate grip on the boy's arm. Fenris wiggled his ears, opened his eyes wide and made a very puppy-like face. The girl broke from her tears and giggled.

"There, that's better." Fenris smiled, "There's that warrior princess who dared to take on mean old Gooey-Duck." The spiky-haired young man's face turned serious, "That was a very brave thing you did back there, distracting the slave trader for us like that, and very quick thinking too. Thank you."

The girl shook her head franticly, "No...I really was very scared. I didn't want to see anyone hurt like that. It was bad enough that..." her green eyes darted to the unmoving Genesis, and her young face tightened, "if you were beaten like that too then...then... I couldn't bear it..." The girl pressed her lips together and her large green eyes once again began to shine with tears. The boy's arms tightened around her.

"I know, Nana," he said quietly, his voice was surprisingly low and rough for his age and effeminate appearance, "but that was still a very reckless thing you did."

"That it was," agreed Fenris, "you shouldn't do anything to upset the slave trader again. I'd hate to see a pretty girl like you get hurt." The girl smiled and nodded and relaxed into the comforting arms of the boy. Fenris too, relaxed and smiled when he saw that.

"So your name is Nana huh? I don't believe we've been properly introduced. I'm Fenris."

"...I'm Husky." the guarded and quiet bluish-haired boy answered in his oddly gravelly voice.

Fenris's eyebrows rose, "That's...a fitting name..."

Husky tossed him an unamused look, then looked away as he hesitated, "Will you...will you tell your friend..." he looked to N'geal, "...that we are grateful for his interference? If he hadn't helped us when he did, then Nana really could have gotten hurt."

"Sure thing," Fenris smiled, "Hey N'geal, they said 'thank you'."

The centaur chuckled, "Tell them it's fine, I've been around a few of those types before, I know how to handle them."

Sephiroth frowned in puzzlement as Fenris repeated N'geal's message...albeit somewhat...shorter...and less eloquent...to the children. N'geal's and the children's cages were but an arm's length away, right next to each other. Could they not hear each other's words?

"Fenris," Sephiroth asked once all was quiet again, "why did you need to relay the message between them? Couldn't they simply talk between themselves?"

Fenris gave him a puzzled look, "No, those children are human. They can't understand N'geal's language, and N'geal can't understand theirs."

Human? Sephiroth's brows furrowed as he looked towards the cages that housed N'geal and the two children. He had always wondered about his heritage. Once, he thought he had finally found it, but that had turned out to be a lie too. He was now very certain that he was not a Cetra, and he was fairly certain that Jenova's claim to be his mother was yet another lie too. So what does that make him?

"I can understand all of them..." he murmured, partly to himself.

"Of course you can," Fenris looked at him in confusion, "you're a hybrid." At Sephiroth's puzzled stare Fenris elaborated, "You know, a mixed-blood offspring of a demon and a human—like Nero."

Inuyasha snorted derisively. Both Fenris and Sephiroth turned to him.

"What," the dog-eared youth scoffed at Fenris, "your full-blood youkai nose can't tell that you have a human in front of you?"

"Human?" Fenris frowned. He studied Sephiroth for a few moments, then leaned forward and sniffed. Sephiroth frowned but resisted the urge to shove the young male away.

"He's...a little different from Nero... But he looks and smells like a hybrid to me." Fenris finally pulled back, face still scrunched up in puzzlement.

"In your world," asked Inuyasha, "are there any hanyou who were not born as they are, but made from humans who gave their bodies to be merged with youkai?"

"No," Fenris's eyes widened, "I didn't even think that was possible..."

"Well it is in mine." Inuyasha scowled towards Sephiroth and Vincent, "In my world, there are quite a number of humans who lust after the power of youkai. I've fought one who went as far as to deliberately destroy his own soul in order to gain it. These two might have been successful enough to fool you and the slave trader, but my nose doesn't lie, and neither does the taste of their blood."

Fenris stared wide-eyed at the two men, "Is that...true?"

Sephiroth wasn't exactly sure of what the two animal-eared young men were talking about, but he was getting a clear impression that they were accusing him of having done to _himself_ whatever experiments ShinRa had done on him.

"I have had _no_ hand in choosing my making." he growled angrily, "And..." he paused, "I do not know the circumstances of my birth."

"You don't know your parents?" Fenris's eyes blinked in surprise.

"Or whether I had any." Sephiroth muttered to no one. To his side, Vincent flinched.

"And what about you?" Fenris asked Vincent.

"I...was born human," said Vincent quietly, "though I too did not choose to become what I am."

"But...Gooey-Duck said you were hybrids, it's strange that an old fox like him can be wrong about these things..." Fenris went silent in thought for a few moments, then he suddenly straightened and frantically looked around the dark and quiet room. All was still. Even N'geal and the children had by now gone to sleep.

"What is it?" asked Nero, who had been very quiet this whole time.

"Shh!" Fenris hissed, then lowered his voice, "all of you, do not utter a word of this to anyone, especially you Inuyasha! Do NOT let ANYONE know that you can tell that they are not what Gooey-Duck says they are."

Inuyasha frowned in question, but before the dog-eared youth could ask him to explain, Fenris turned to Sephiroth and Vincent and continued, "Humans are not popular slaves among demon lords. In fact, a lot of them have _very_ low opinions of humans. My guess is that Gooey-Duck _does_ know what you are, but is trying to pass you off as hybrids so that he can sell you for a much, much better price. After all, no-one else here seem to have noticed any different, except for Inuyasha." The wolf-eared young male turned his eyes towards Genesis's cage, all the others followed his gaze, "And...we all know how Gooey-Duck reacts when someone interferes with his 'business'."

* * *

**Additional Disclaimers:** Nana and Husky of the manga series +Anima belong to Natsumi Mukai. I'm only borrowing them and make no money from them


	6. Chapter 5: Information

**Author's Notes:** Well…it's good to know that I'm not corrupting any innocent minds here :D

Funny, I just saw a comedian a couple of weeks ago using Gonzo as a comparison as he made fun of how weird the male anatomy looked XD

No mouth-to-mouth of any kind in this chapter though. Hope it's not too boring :P

**Warnings:** Large chunks of exposition.

* * *

Chapter 5 - Information

* * *

Vincent's quiet acceptance of everything was infuriating. Sephiroth didn't know why it was bothering him so. But it was. During feeding time, the ex-Turk followed his cellmates and retrieved his handful of food without a hint of protest. Even Gooey-Duck furrowed his brows at the easy grace with which the man performed his forced obeisance.

When the water tray was slid in Vincent was the last to go for it. Just as the ex-Turk was reaching for the water, Gooey-Duck slapped his bound hands away with his whip.

"On your hands and knees like the good-for-nothing slave you are!" the slave trader commanded.

The ex-Turk complied and lowered his lips to the water. Growling, the slave trader kicked the tray and splashed its contents all over Vincent. The other occupants of the cage tensed, but Vincent simply sat silently with his eyes averted. Gooey-Duck snorted down his nose and moved on to more entertaining victims. Vincent stayed where he was until Gooey-Duck began to head for the door. Sephiroth watched as the ex-Turk finally lifted his eyes to the slave trader's receding back. Those crimson orbs burned. Sephiroth found himself smirking in satisfaction at the sight.

Genesis on the other hand, was still adapting to his situation poorly. He laid on the far side of his cage and ignored everything and everyone. Gooey-Duck was not worried however, the slave trader was confident that hunger and thirst will eventually make the firedrake submit.

The children seemed to have gained some confidence since the previous night's ordeal. They were more open to converse with Fenris, and even tried communicating with N'geal via gestures.

Sephiroth studied the 'human' children, his mind still raced through question after question that the conversations from the previous night had left. Although Inuyasha and Fenris had claimed them to be human, the children did exhibit some oddities that would say otherwise. The boy, for example, had hair that was a decidedly inhuman bluish-silver. Even Sephiroth's own silver mane could be passed off as a premature white. But perhaps the boy's hair had been dyed, as odd a colour choice as that was. And the girl had heard the slave trader's footsteps even before the ex-general's enhanced hearing did. Although she could have simply imagined it in her panicked state and got lucky.

"Fenris, how are you so sure that those children are human?" Sephiroth questioned out loud.

"Of course we're human! What else can we be?" Nana huffed, offended, before Fenris could answer.

"You seem to have superior hearing abilities than what humans should possess," Sephiroth turned his cold mako eyes on the girl, "you heard the coming of the slave trader when no human should have been able."

"Well we're a little different, is all. But we're definitely human!" Nana insisted defensively, not at all fazed by Sephiroth's cold attitude.

"Nana," Husky stopped the girl before she could continue, "let him think what he likes, it's no matter."

"But..." Nana looked back at her friend. She looked like she wanted to say something, but stopped herself and conceded. Crossing her arms, she humphed at Sephiroth and pointedly turned her back on him. Partially hidden behind her long golden hair, Sephiroth noticed a tattoo resembling bat wings on the girl's shoulder-blades. The style of the tattoo matched the abstract, wave-like patterns that were drawn on Husky's neck.

Fenris cocked an eyebrow in question at Sephiroth.

"If you're wondering how they can tell who's human and who's not—it's their nose." Nero cut in nonchalantly from the other end of the cage. Sephiroth's mako eyes narrowed at the youth.

Fenris watched Sephiroth closely with a strange expression on his face. "You...don't know what Inuyasha and I are, do you?"

Noticing the attention from not only his cellmates, but also N'geal, Sephiroth carefully gave a slight shake of his head.

"You really don't..." steel-blue eyes widened, then the wolf-eared young man leaned closer, lowering his voice, "are you... you're not from this world, are you?"

"...as far as I can tell, I assume not..." Sephiroth answered warily.

Those large steel-blue eyes leaned ever closer, "Did...something happen? Did you see a flash of light? Feel like you were being sucked into something? Did you fall into the sky? Or fall from it? Did you land in a rocky desert with a yellow sky?"

Sephiroth's eyes widened. Suddenly, Fenris beamed.

"ME TOO! Oh, and also Inuyasha."

Sephiroth blinked at the excitable young man, and then looked to Inuyasha, who was watching with his ears turned to full alert towards them. A few paces away, Husky and Nana also stirred and moved closer.

"You too?" Fenris asked them. The children nodded.

"How long ago was that?"

Husky and Nana exchanged a look between them, then Husky answered, "We're not sure, we've been knocked out and captured right after we...fell... We were already here when we woke up."

"Then that would make it only about a week before Inuyasha..." Fenris's brows furrowed. He turned to Sephiroth, "What about you Seph, were you and Valentine taken by slavers shortly after you came to this world too?" Sephiroth nodded, and Fenris's brows knit tighter together.

"That's strange... these thing's shouldn't be happening this often...or this close together..."

N'geal made a derisive sound, "This has to be the crime-rings' doing."

Fenris nodded solemnly in agreement, then turned back to the patiently waiting Sephiroth.

"Erm... I guess I should start from the beginning," Fenris scratched his head sheepishly. "How did he explain it again..." he muttered to himself and paused to gather his thoughts, "well, as you might have already known or guessed, there are more worlds out there than the ones we lived in—entire universes, as numerous as the stars. Think of these worlds as stars, and think of them as all swirling around each other, looking like a whirlpool. Well, actually what's really swirling around is this... flow of energy... that flows through all the worlds and connects them all... like a... like a..."

"Like a Lifestream?" Sephiroth suggested.

"Yes! Man! that's a good name for it! And I was going to call it something lame like, 'The Force' or something! 'Lifestream', that's a perfect name for it! I think I'm going to use it from now on," declared Fenris,

"It does have a name pup," said N'geal, "it's called the Aether Currents, or 'The Currents' for short."

Fenris cleared his throat in an attempt to cover his embarrassment, then continued, "So this...Current flows around the multiverse and gathers around the Inner Axis, that is, Heaven and Hell. But before reaching there, they pass through the Outer Axis, which is the Dream Realm and the Spirit Realm. And after that, they pass through the Wastelands before they enter Hell Proper." Fenris began to indicate the different places with pieces of leftover food pellets.

"The Dream Realm is exactly what it says it is. It is a realm of thoughts and feelings, nothing physical or material exists there. The Spirit Realm is home to a whole lot of different creatures, and to the Watchers. You might have heard of them, they're usually referred to as Gods of Death, or Soul Reapers, or the like. They are the guardians of the...Currents, they travel all across the different worlds and watch for anything that should not be there, or should be there but is not. Heaven and Hell are the native lands of angels and demons, respectively, but other beings live there too."

"So since everything is connected by the Currents, sometimes major catastrophes happen in some worlds that disturbs its flow, and sometimes vortices form and suck things from one world to another. Most of the time they don't go into the Axis. Even when they do they usually land in the Spirit Realm. Only in rare occasions do they land as far in as the Wastelands."

"So you think that someone's been tampering with this 'Current' to make these vortices happen more often than they should?" asked Sephiroth, "as a way to acquire slaves?"

Fenris nodded, "demon lords like to show off to each other, and one way to do so is to own rare slaves, and they are willing to pay a LOT for those. Rare slaves are usually either creatures who live in the Wastelands that are very hard to catch—like that firedrake or those plants, or unlucky ones, like us, who got caught in one of those vortices and end up landing in the Wastelands."

"The Wastelands is neutral territory between Heaven, Hell and the Spirit Realm." explained N'geal, "the Trinity watch each other like hawks. They forbid each other from directly interfering with the mortal worlds for fear that the other will gain too much power from gathering too many powerful beings. But anything that arrives by "accident" in the Wastelands is fair game. Although on the surface they all agree that manipulating the Aether Currents for selfish gain is wrong and illegal, only the Watchers truly care. Heaven and Hell really only care about gaining an edge over each other. The Watchers alone can't keep an eye on everything in the multiverse, and the rare-slave trade is extremely lucrative."

"There are two crime organizations in the Axis that are powerful enough to try something like this: The Loveless and The Nobodies," Fenris continued, "I'd not be surprised that such a successful slave trader as Gooey-Duck has at least _some_ connection to them."

Sephiroth silently contemplated and digested all this information. He noticed that Vincent too, was listening intently in his quiet corner. The man seemed to gather shadows and silence about himself simply by being there. Not even Fenris had been immune to this peculiar aura the ex-Turk exuded.

"You two seem to have been well-informed regarding this matter." the quiet gunman suddenly spoke, the first time he did since the night he woke.

N'geal grinned humourlessly, "Being former commander of the 1st division of a Circle army gives you some access to information in the shadier sides of Axis politics. And the wolf-pup was once in the middle of it."

Sephiroth's eyes turned to Fenris. The spiky-haired young man's clear eyes had darkened as one of his hands reached to touch a greenish tattoo on his shoulder.

"Before...being sold to Gooey-Duck, I was once sold to a mage from the 4th Circle." Fenris explained, not looking at anyone. He darted a look at the others, then shrugged, "It wasn't so bad, he treated me well enough since he used me as his bodyguard, taught me quite a lot about this place too." Neither the former general nor the ex-Turk was fooled: there was a lot that Fenris wasn't telling about his experiences as a slave.

N'geal humphed, his tail flicked angrily behind him, "His former master was a power-hungry fool. Eventually got himself and all those around him killed. When the slavers brought the pup in, he was in bad shape. They only kept him because they were aware of his former master's habit of-" The centaur stopped himself and darted a look at Fenris, then said no more but contented himself with a stomp of his hoofs and a harsh sigh.

Sephiroth's eyes went over Fenris's bare torso. The young man's bronze skin was marred by many scars. Though quite a few of those were strange to Sephiroth's experience, at least some of those looked suspiciously like the ones that he and Valentine bore from their times in the labs. So...not even this version of Zack had been able to escape this particular fate.

Sephiroth watched as Vincent's eyes scanned Fenris in similar fashion, obviously also recognizing the similarities between the wolf-eared young man's and his own collection of scars. Fenris regarded the ex-Turk back, and met his gaze with a look of understanding.

"I...apologize." said Vincent as he lowered his crimson eyes, "I didn't mean to..."

"It's alright," Fenris smiled kindly at the ex-Turk, "you were right to be cautious. Around here, you have to be careful of who you trust. One thing I've learned while in the service of my former master is that in this world, just about nobody is what they first appear to be."

Nobody said anything for quite some time after that, then suddenly, Fenris straightened and his eyes went wide.

"What is it?" asked Sephiroth.

Fenris slowly turned to him with a sheepish look on his slightly reddish face, "Umm...I haven't actually answered your question, haven't I?"

...

"Me and Inuyasha are both youkai...well, Inuyasha is a hanyou...that is...he's only half youkai, one of his parents was human...but his nose is still pretty good...that's from his youkai parent... ...I'm not making any sense, am I?"

Sephiroth shook his head.

"Well..." Fenris scratched his head and tried again, "are there any dog-youkai or wolf-youkai in your world?"

"I have seen quite a few dogs and wolves, but I have never heard of...'youkai'." answered Sephiroth, trying his best to make sense of the spiky-haired young man's babbling.

"Oh... Well do the dogs and wolves in your world have a good sense of smell?"

Sephiroth nodded, "Some of the most superior amongst all living beings."

"Then think of them in human form...with magic abilities, that's what Inuyasha and I are. I'm a wolf, by the way. And Inuyasha's a dog."

Sephiroth eyed Fenris's and Inuyasha's animal ears and nodded slowly, passing that information to the back of his mind to be processed. Part of said mind caught the word 'magic' and mused at the memories of Hojo's vehement rejection of the word.

"So you are able to identify the nature of other creatures by smell?"

Fenris nodded, "We can also identify them by other things, like their auras and the feel of their energies."

"...And you're confident in your accuracy...?"

"Oh they're _very_ accurate," said N'geal, "canid youkai are much favoured among demon lords for that very talent. There are many creatures in Hell that have the ability to disguise their true natures."

"But...you and Inuyasha were of differing opinions...last night..."

Fenris shrugged, "As sharp as our senses are, we still can't tell things we've never seen before. I trust the puppy. He's got a good nose, even though he _is_ a mangy mutt!"

"Shut up, idiot wolf." retorted a certain 'mangy mutt' most eloquently.

Off in the other end of the cage, Nero didn't even _try_ to hide his smirk—_especially_ not after an annoyed glare from Inuyasha.

Sephiroth nodded in acknowledgement. Underneath his calm exterior however, he was battling the myriad of emotions and thoughts that were threatening to break his careful control. What does this all mean for him? Does this mean he really was human, as Inuyasha and Fenris believed? Yet he looked (and smelled) enough like a 'hybrid'—a half-demon, that even demon lords may not be able to tell the difference. What of Jenova then, was she really a demon of some sort? Had he been combined with her much like Vincent had been with his demons? The former general looked towards the pale gunman. No...it's different...in some ways. Vincent had said that he was born human. He had always known what he is. Even now, sharing the same body, he and his demons were still separate, distinct entities. Not like Sephiroth when Jenova had full control of him, he could barely tell where he began and where Jenova ended. Mako eyes then darted to Inuyasha. Silver hair, pale skin, youkai ears and claws...cat-like eyes...half-youkai. And Nero... Silver hair...pale skin, demonic appendage...half-demon. Sephiroth's own black wing shifted uneasily under his skin. Was there at least some truth to Jenova's claim to be his mother after all? Had he, after numerous deaths and resurrections, and after unwittingly traveling who knows how far across a multitude of universes, finally found a clue to his origins, or had he only found more false information. The former general closed his eyes against the unrest in his core.

* * *

**Author's Notes part 2: **Had some trouble with how to get all this information out in a reasonable time frame…and it came out as long chunks of exposition XP Hope it's not too boring or confusing. A certain reviewer kindly pointed out some confusion last chapter. I know I've introduced quite a few cross-over characters to fill out this world, but it's sometimes easy to forget the things that can be confusing to people who don't know those characters' backgrounds. So if anything's confusing the hell out of you (no pun intended), fell free to give me a holler, and I'll see what revisions I can make :)


	7. Chapter 6: Culture Clash

**Author's Notes:** It's good to know that the previous chapter came out better than I hoped. Thank you all for your encouragement and support :)

Here's a short, fun little chapter to rest your heads from the information overload before we start diving deeper into Hell. Enjoy~ :)

**Warnings: **Sex. Dead ahead. Venture forth at your own peril…or glee…whichever…

* * *

Chapter 6 - Culture Clash

* * *

According to N'geal, one other reason that demons favour youkai slaves is that the two beings share many similarities with one another. Apparently one of the things they share is their rather...liberal attitude towards physical intimacy. Sephiroth had always been a light sleeper. That trait has helped him many times in the past but at this moment it is more of a liability. The ex-general scowled as he found himself an unwilling witness to Fenris's so-called 'rabid libido'.

The wolf-youkai was currently pounding into the dog-hanyou underneath him. Inuyasha was on his elbows and knees, and since both boys' hands were restrained, it made the whole act a tad ungainly...with some obvious inconveniences. The hanyou growled impatiently as his neglected member started to weep its protest.

"I know, puppy. I'm...sorry...ah...," whispered Fenris as he nuzzled a silver-white ear, sweat beaded upon his handsome brow, "just...a little longer... then...nng...I'll be able to...take care...of you."

Inuyasha growled again and thrust back into Fenris.

"Oh _Gods_! Puppy!" Fenris moaned and buried his face into the thick silver mane.

Sephiroth glanced down at the effect that this was having on his young, _male_ body, then glanced around the cage at the rest of his cellmates. None of them were asleep either. Nero was also scowling in his place at the far side of the cage, obviously similarly affected and not appreciating it. Vincent...was meditating. Sephiroth has seen other Turks practice the same thing. Apparently it lets their minds shut out the world and helps them through difficult situations. Sephiroth cursed whoever it was that decided to omit the training of this technique for SOLDIER.

At another barely concealed moan, Nero abruptly got up and flopped himself down underneath Inuyasha. The hanyou startled when he felt the hybrid's lips around his sensitive, engorged shaft, then grunted and shifted his position so he could return the favour. Fenris sucked in a breath at the sight and his pace became erratic.

Sephiroth shot another begrudging look at Vincent. The ex-Turk remained perfectly cool and comfortable in his own world. Sephiroth decided right then that he absolutely _refuse_ to give in to his treacherous body and jerk off in front of the ridiculously adaptive ex-Turk. Not that he really could anyway the way his hands were bound. Perhaps mental images of Hojo in a tutu will be of aid?

"Hey..."

Sephiroth was suddenly brought out of his rather disturbing self-inflicted thoughts and found Fenris staring at him barely a hand's length away. Behind him, Inuyasha and Nero dozed on the floor beside each other.

"Sorry about that... I can help you with _that_, if you like." Fenris offered apologetically.

Sephiroth stared into the familiar face of Zack Fair.

"No."

Fenris blink in puzzlement, he hadn't expected Sephiroth to refuse the offer—especially not in _that _condition.

"You sure?"

"Yes."

Fenris was obviously not convinced, but he didn't push the issue. He then glanced uncertainly at Vincent. The ex-Turk could have been a statue for all the effect all of this had had on him.

"You don't need to worry about _him_ either." Sephiroth hmphed.

Fenris nodded slowly with a thoughtful look on his face. He looked back at Sephiroth when the ex-general shifted his weight uncomfortably. A questioning eyebrow raised under the messy bangs.

Sephiroth sighed, "For the last time Fenris: yes, I am sure. I'm _fine_."

N'geal's suppressed chuckle reached his ears from a few cages down, as well as Genesis's soft snort. Sephiroth frowned. Apparently these long-time residents of Hell were quite used to such liberal and public practice of sex. Although the young males had tried to be as quiet as possible, both the centaur and the firedrake had long since been awakened. And both of them simply glanced towards Sephiroth's cage and then went back to a light doze as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. Not like the human children. Husky was still sound asleep, but Nana's apparently enhanced hearing was not doing her any good. She had her back firmly turned to the rutting trio, and even under the pale starlight from the plant-creatures' 'window', she looked like she was blushing from head to toe.

"Actually Fenris," said Sephiroth, "there _is_ something I'd like you to help me with."

Fenris's ears perked to attention, "What is it?"

Sephiroth paused as he considered his question. "Have you...ever seen anyone in this world that looks very much like someone you knew from your own world?"

—

Vincent's mind had refocused on the outside world as soon as Fenris approached Sephiroth. He had been working hard to keep a tight rein on both his own body's reactions to the youths' activities, and the restlessness of his demons.

_And why not? They are strong, willing partners. And they are not human, so you don't need to worry about infecting them with your 'monstrosity'. _Chaos protested bitterly.

_It HAS been over thirty-years... perhaps you don't remember how? _Hellmasker gave Vincent a mental poke with his chainsaw.

Galian Beast cocked his head in confusion at Vincent's refusal to participate in the mating session with such fit and ready partners right in front of him. Death Gigas was simply too simple-minded to understand any of it and was trying to push his way to the front to watch in curiosity.

_I said, NO!_ Vincent growled mentally at all of them. They then settled back grudgingly, muttering about hosts and idiocy.

Well it was good to know that all his demons had been recovering well from their flight with Omega and subsequent rough landing in Hell. To _think_ that he had actually been **worried**!

Despite appearances, Vincent had been keeping a part of his mind alert to the outside world all this time—particularly on Sephiroth. It was clear that the actions of the young males were making the ex-general increasingly aroused...and...he _is_ Hojo's son... At the back of his mind, his demons gave a low growl at the memory.

However, the ex-Turk did not miss the subtle tension in Sephiroth's well-defined muscles when Fenris gave his offer, and was as surprised as Fenris was by Sephiroth's resolute refusal. Odd behaviour, considering Sephiroth appears to be a healthy young male on all accounts, and was undoubtedly the receiver of much amorous attention as ShinRa's most celebrated war hero. And there was no disgust in the ex-general's tone either...only something...something that Vincent couldn't quite name.

_He's trying to court you._

_WHAT?_

_We've been keeping watch too. He licked your wounds, wrestled you and forced you under him and checked you over for bruises and marks, and smiled when he found that there were none that marked you as another's. He kept looking at you during the mating session. He rejected the young wolf's offer, and kept him away from you. He's trying to court you. _Chaos explained in a matter-of-fact manner. The other demons nodded thoughtfully.

_No Chaos, _Vincent resisted the urge to rub his temples, _I am certain it is NOT that. I think...there's a different reason._

Being a former Turk, Vincent had been helping Reeve dig up and organize some of ShinRa's old classified files in order to understand the extent of the damage the power company had done to the planet and to innocent lives. He had seen the files on Sephiroth, Cloud, and Zack, as well as the files on Genesis Rhapsodos and Angeal Hewley and Project G. He hadn't failed to notice the similarities between his fellow prisoners and the photos and descriptions on those files. Sephiroth's question to Fenris had pretty much confirmed his speculations on those similarities. Likely that Sephiroth rejected the offer of 'help' from Fenris because the wolf youkai looked too much like the long-deceased 1st class SOLDIER Zack Fair, who, according to the files and Cloud's memories, had been one of the very few people that the former general had considered as true comrades.

_What about that thing that he did...you humans call it...'kissing'? _Asked Hellmasker with a snigger.

_Oh! I know! _Said Death Gigas excitedly, _I saw something like that in Host's memories! It was in a book that had pictures! There was a princess, and a prince, and fairies... but I think he was supposed to do it BEFORE you wake up..._

Howls of laughter from Hellmasker filled their collective mind, _Ahahaha! That's right Host! In those books, the kissing couple ALWAYS_ _become mated with one another!_

Death Gigas nodded enthusiastically in agreement as Chaos crossed his arms in triumph, while Galian Beast wagged his tail at the prospect of having a mate.

Vincent mentally groaned.

—

Fenris nodded. "Yes, I have. It's because...hmm...how did he explain it again... Well, apparently, the multiverse is not...linear... It's all twisted and folded and mirrored and whatnots. So it's possible that different versions of the same person exists in different worlds...or something like that. In all honesty, I don't quite understand it myself," the young man scratched his head, "but it's like, you have the same person at the base, but they're also somewhat...different, because they lived through different events, met different people, and...yeah..."

Sephiroth considered the broken explanation for a moment, then he noticed that Fenris's steel-blue eyes had drifted towards N'geal's cage. Sephiroth followed his gaze. The centaur had already fallen asleep. Both steel-blue and mako green lingered for a moment on the familiar, yet not-familiar form before meeting one another again.

"In my world..." said Fenris quietly, "he...was a member of my pack. He was my teacher, my guardian. After my father passed away, he took me under his wing as if I were his own." The wolf-youkai lowered his eyes, "I wonder how he's doing now..."

"He was...a good friend. One of the few I've had. He died...a long time ago."

Fenris nodded, and the two men sat silent for a few moments.

"...Have you ever thought about going back, to see for yourself his present condition?" Sephiroth suddenly asked.

Fenris's eyes snapped up.

"I know what you're thinking, and my advice is still the same: don't try it. You will only get yourself hurt. No matter what you really are, you and Valentine both look and smell too much like true hybrids. Even if you manage to escape from Gooey-Duck, the rest of Hell will eagerly hunt you down. Demon-human matings are taboo, and by law, hybrids are to be caught and enslaved on sight."

"What about yourself then?" Sephiroth's mako eyes burned steadily into steel-blue, "Have you never thought about it? Never tried?"

Fenris sighed, "Seph, listen to me: the Axis is a very complex place. There are many things that you haven't seen, many things that you haven't yet come to understand. All I can tell you right now is that there are very, _very_ good reasons to be cautious. And besides..." the young man's calloused fingers drifted towards the tattoo on his shoulder, "It's too late for me. I can't go back... Not anymore..."


	8. Chapter 7: Point of No Return

**Author's Notes: **

"Chaos and friends" huh? I've never heard anyone refer to Vincent's demons that way. Reminds me of Yu-Gi-Oh The Abridged Series's "Zorc and Pals", if anyone knows what that is XD

Not much to say about this one except that it's a bit longer than usual, so yeah, let's just get on with the show~

**Warnings:** 100% sex free. For now.

* * *

Chapter 7 - Point of No Return

* * *

Fenris was right about a lot of things. Firedrake-Genesis was every bit as stubborn as the human one Sephiroth knew. However, his current condition was not exactly "alright". Apparently just like the human version, this version of Genesis's mind also worked in similar ways to Sephiroth's. Any weakness that Sephiroth had found in his restraints but had not yet tried to exploit, Genesis did—with no success. By the look on Gooey-Duck's face when he exacted his punishments onto the unfortunate firedrake, Sephiroth wondered if the wily slave trader had purposely placed those seeming weaknesses just to trick his prisoners into a sense of false hope, so that he may have some opportunity and excuse to indulge in his sadistic nature.

Fenris and N'geal watched Genesis's struggles with the solemn quietness of ones who had seen such things play out many times before. And perhaps even experienced it themselves. Fenris never did elaborate on what he meant that night, about not being able to go back to his own world, and Sephiroth was never one to pry. He himself understood all too well that kind of solitude and the need to retreat into it.

The look in Inuyasha and Nero's eyes told that they had tried similar tactics as Genesis, and likely met similar ends. But although they watched tight-jawed and silent, their eyes still flashed with signs of stubborn, prideful spirits not yet ready to give up. Vincent simply sat quietly through it all, his face impassive. But Sephiroth was not fooled. He was quite familiar with the facade of ease and the calculating look that surfaced subtly from time to time in those crimson eyes. Vincent was a true Turk, whether his current title bears an 'ex' or not.

Genesis was still not eating or drinking. Combined with the torture, his condition was fast deteriorating. Gooey-Duck only sneered at him and threatened to force-feed him if necessary, and informed him, almost in anticipation, that he'll make it as unpleasant as possible for the firedrake. Gooey-Duck also informed the firedrake in almost transparent glee, that he can fight all he wants, but his pride is worth nothing before a demon lord. Genesis answered the slave trader with only defiant indifference, but under a careful eye, one could tell from subtle signs in his posture and the air around him that he was beginning to feel the dark cold of despair.

This day, it seems the slave trader was in a particularly sadistic mood. Not only did he rile the now mostly apathetic firedrake into once again smacking the food tray out at the slave trader, he also successfully goaded Inuyasha into a temperamental outburst.

Inuyasha scowled as he licked at his whip marks. Fenris helped him with the ones he couldn't reach.

"What is that stuff he puts in his whip?" Inuyasha wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"It's made from a plant called Agonia. Its poison slows your body's natural healing." answered Fenris, "You should have known better than to let Gooey-Duck get to you like that."

"Yeah, well, it was worth it. Did you see the look on his face?" Inuyasha gave a fang-showing grin, but then yelped in pain as Fenris pointedly pressed an especially hard lick on the hanyou's raw back.

Sephiroth saw a small movement in the firedrake's shoulders and recognized it as the sign of one of Genesis's secret smirks. The headstrong firedrake probably agreed with Inuyasha and thought that _his_ retaliation had been worth the price also.

Suddenly, something bounced off of the firedrake's head, then before Genesis could react, another followed it. The brunette stared incredulously at the brown food pellets and then turned to the culprit.

"That's for payback," grinned N'geal, "I was beginning to think you were aiming those tail-slaps deliberately to include me in the firing range of these things."

Genesis humphed and turned away again.

"You know you're only making it harder on yourself," sighed N'geal, "you should at least eat something. Gooey-Duck's only small fry compared to a true demon lord. You will need all your strength when the time comes when you must face one of those."

"Just leave me to rot." Genesis answered bitterly.

"And are you content to let it end like this? Rotting in a slave cage?" Sephiroth asked coldly, "If so then you are nothing but a coward."

Genesis's eyes blazed as he raised himself up from the floor, "And who are you to speak to me thus?"

"Right now, I am exactly what you are: merchandize waiting to be sold," Sephiroth returned Genesis's glare with one of equal intensity, "if you wish to admit defeat and die as that then that's your choice. But I ask you to kindly refrain from burdening the rest of us with your foolishness."

The firedrake looked ready to burst with rage.

Fenris groaned, "No, wait, let me translate. This guy's not very good at expressing himself you see. What he meant was: if you continue like this, you will only die in vain. None of us want to see that. We are after-all, in the same boat...quite literally."

Genesis clenched his fists and continued to glare at Sephiroth, but held himself from further outbursts.

"Ya know, I'd suggest a change of strategy too," shrugged Fenris, "I mean, your current one hasn't gotten you anywhere, has it?"

Genesis shifted his smoldering glare to the wolf-youkai. But after a moment of tense silence, his shoulders slacked and he turned away.

"I am not... I CAN not... _bow_ to that...that..." he said finally, his clenched muscles shook with suppressed emotion.

"It is only a bow if you think of it as one." Vincent suddenly spoke up in his quiet voice, "Think of it as nothing but a way for you to reach your sustenance—a means to an end—a way to gather and preserve your strength for what lies ahead. It is only your body performing a necessary action. If your heart is strong, it'll not be changed."

The firedrake only sat unmoving and was silent for a very long time after that. However, when everybody else's attention had turned elsewhere, Sephiroth spied him taking the pellets that N'geal had thrown into his cage and putting them into his mouth. As if sensing his gaze, Genesis lifted his eyes to Sephiroth's.

"I shall get myself out of this before you do," said the firedrake, his pale eyes burned with steady determination and a small, challenging smirk tugged at his lips, "and I will dance on your grave."

Sephiroth smirked back, "Challenge accepted."

—

Vincent watched all of this with a mask of indifference. That speech he gave the firedrake was one that he often had to give himself in the past. And to his demons.

Chaos had raged about having to get into a submissive posture for such a lesser demon. Vincent tried to placate the demon by saying that it was only _him_ doing the postures, not Chaos. It didn't work.

_You are my Host. We are in the same body. Joined together by the unholy sorcery of the arrogant ones in white. _Chaos had said angrily,_You and I are one and the same. It matters not which one of us is doing it._

Vincent had sighed mentally and reminded the proud demon of how they had survived their ordeal at the hands of Hojo, and that this was nothing in comparison. That worked much better.

With that matter settled, Vincent was free to let his mind wonder about Sephiroth. The former world-destroyer had shown none of the brutality and cruelty that had been consistently present in all the encounters that Vincent had had with him since he joined AVALANCHE. In fact, the Sephiroth that was now sitting in front of him seemed to be a decent man who, although cold and distant, was capable of sympathy for others. Had Sephiroth been telling the truth when he claimed that JENOVA no longer influenced him? Had he now reverted back to who he was before finding the lies and the half-truths about his origins in Nibelheim? Vincent ventured a glance at the ex-general, only to find mako-green eyes already watching him. The expression on the former general's face, though subtle, bore incredible resemblance to Lucrecia's when she was trying to work out a puzzle or confounding results from an experiment. Crimson eyes quickly darted away, fleeing from the memory.

No resemblance to his birth mother had yet surfaced in the former general's personality however, whether the destructive one that Vincent was more familiar with, or this current one. In fact, Sephiroth's current personality does seem to match what Cloud had recalled from the memories he gained from Zack. But could it just be a ruse? A trick? Somehow, the ever-suspicious ex-Turk didn't truly believe that.

Suddenly, the door of the room hit the wall with a bang and Gooey-Duck rushed in. He tossed a small jar at Fenris and pointed at Inuyasha, "Get him to a presentable state! I'll tolerate no slack from either of you!" At the same time, his lackeys pulled N'geal from his cage and shoved him into Genesis's. Gooey-Duck tossed the centaur a similar jar and barked the same orders. Soon after the slave trader signaled his exit from the room with another loud bang of the door, the ship hummed and shuddered and began to pick up speed.

Fenris opened the jar and sniffed, his brows furrowed.

"What is it?" Inuyasha asked warily, his ears flat against his head.

"It's...a medicinal ointment...and it contains the antidote to Agonia's poison."

Ignoring his cellmates' incredulous and puzzled looks, Fenris quickly went over to the corner of the cage, opened the floorboard and dropped down to the vent, "K-6, you there? You've any idea what's going on?"

The voice that drifted up from the vent was tinged with nervousness and fear, and Fenris's face tightened in apprehension.

"We are hurrying to Junon ahead of schedule," Fenris informed everybody when he finally straightened up from the vent, "because there's been word out that one of the Archdaemons of the Inner Circles has entered 5th Circle's borders and is heading for Junon looking to buy some new slaves."

N'geal and Genesis visibly tensed. Nero's eyes flashed then darkened.

"What does that mean?" asked Husky. Both he and Nana had now pressed themselves to the front of their cage.

"It means at least one of us is going to end up a slave to one of the most dangerous demons that Hell has to offer." said Nero darkly.

—

"Hell is divided into a total of nine Circles, and those are grouped into the Outer, Mid, and Inner Circles. The Outer Circles is home to the weakest demons, the Inner the strongest. The 7th, 8th and 9th Circles make up the Inner Circles. 9th Circle is just one giant prison for the most dangerous individuals of the Axis. And the 7th and 8th Circles house many former prisoners of the 9th. Each Circle is ruled by an Archdaemon. And all three of the current Archdaemons of the Inner Circles had sat in 9th Circle's prison cells at least once." N'geal explained as he tended to Genesis's wounds with the ointment given by Gooey-Duck. The firedrake, surprisingly enough, sat quietly and allowed it.

"The Inner Circles don't actually use slaves. It's long been proven that the inhabitants of those Circles will mercilessly exploit anything that hinders one from defending oneself. Wide gaps in social status being one of those hinderances. Only the Archdaemons kept slaves, because it is a status symbol among them. Sometimes, some demons will try to smuggle in slaves to feel better about themselves, and sometimes an Archdaemon will allow it to go on. The previous Archdaemon of 7th Circle did just that. On the day he was killed, the entire Circle broke into violent riots in celebration of his death. The smuggled slaves bore the brunt of the uncontrolled venting of violence. None of them survived. The current Archdaemon of the 7th strictly forbids slaves in the Circle." N'geal explained grimly. Fenris repeated it all to those who couldn't understand the centaur as he tended to Inuyasha with his jar of ointment.

"B-but...surely there will be other slave merchants there? That Archdaemon doesn't have to choose one of _us_, does he?" Nana asked, her small body quivered.

N'geal sighed, "Gooey-Duck is one of the top slave merchants of Hell, known for his reliable supply of strong, rare slaves. Any Archdaemon looking to buy new slaves is sure to visit his stall at some point. He also has one of the fastest ships, and never fails to appear where there's business to be had. In fact, he's always among the first slave trader to arrive and one of the first to make a sale."

The centaur paused to study the rapidly changing colours of light that passed by the plant-creatures' window. "It will probably be just past sunrise in Junon when we arrive. You kids better hope that these Archdaemons are not early-risers and you get bought by someone kinder before they come."

Sephiroth frowned at the coloured lights. By the feel of the ship's acceleration and the amount of time it took, he was positive that they were now traveling at a speed he had never thought possible for a ship of any kind. The yellowish sky peeking in from the "windows" had also melted into streaks of colours that span the visible spectrum. Evidently, just as Fenris had said, there were still many things about this world that he did not yet know. Sephiroth's mako-green eyes scanned the room for his "travel companions". The ones who seemed to have the best chance at escaping were N'geal and Fenris. They clearly hold plenty of knowledge about this world, and the experience to deal with its challenges. N'geal had once been a high-rank officer in an Archdaemon's army, so he was certain to be both intelligent and strong, as well as very capable of leadership—much like Angeal had been. And many in this room appear to be formidable fighters, including Fenris, Inuyasha, Nero, Genesis, Vincent and Sephiroth himself.

Even the children, if what Fenris said about demon lords having low opinions of humans was true, then there must be some reason for them to be placed here among rare slaves, targeted toward high-ranking buyers. Nana had said that they were "a little different". And her enhanced hearing, even beyond the sensitivity of the ex-general's, was definitely one of those differences. What others might there be? And then there's the very useful informations from K-6. So with all these resources, what was stopping N'geal from organizing a break-out? Language, maybe? But he had the friendship and aid of Fenris. And most of them here could communicate with the centaur anyways. Or it could just be the centaur's strong sense of honour, which he obviously shared with Angeal. For a military commander of an Archdaemon to end up in a slave cage, there must have been a story behind it. Or perhaps it was an issue with trust? Although they all seem to be people that Sephiroth could count on in the battlefield, the ex-general had long since learnt some very hard lessons on trust—particularly from when he was still in the labs, when he had still been new to the world and naive.

What of Fenris then? What had beaten down this other-world double of a certain strong-willed 1st class SOLDIER, so much that he had completely lost hope of escape and was only hoping for a kind buyer? At this very moment, the young wolf-youkai was giving the puzzling ex-general pointed looks as he cautioned his cellmates that there will be a lot of demon lords walking about in the slave market, and that whatever happens, do NOT do anything rash.

The wolf-youkai had told Sephiroth that hybrids were highly prized as slaves for demon lords. Slavers will not hesitate to hunt down a couple of hybrid look-a-likes as if they were true hybrids. Demon lords tend to be confident to the point of arrogance when it comes to their vaunted senses, and Fenris had rolled his eyes and said that he had seen them get things wrong many times before. Although slave merchants such as Gooey-Duck frequently use a set of testing methods to differentiate between hybrids and other creatures so that they can haggle their price with the crime-rings or individual slave-hunters, demon lords themselves care about those as much—or as little—as trophy collectors care about the subtle physical variations and habits between different species of marshland death-mongers. As long as their 'catch' had shiny pelts or large horns, and looked good hanging in their halls, then that's good enough for them.

Sephiroth sighed inwardly. What Fenris had said did make sense. And indeed, escaping from this ship would only be the beginning. Keeping from being caught again would prove to be the more difficult task, especially with the limited knowledge he had of this world. Plus he had no idea how he was going to escape from this world of slaving demons and go back to his own. Masamune was close now. Almost close enough for Sephiroth to feel its familiar hilt in his grasp. But "almost" was not good enough.

Sephiroth looked over at Vincent. By the way the ex-Turks's crimson eyes took in everything around him, the ex-general knew that escape had been on the gunman's mind as well. But would he be willing to help the former general...in _anything_? The ex-Turk's attitude towards him had hardly budged over the past few days, curse that man's stubborn heart.

Sephiroth hadn't yet had the chance to ask the ex-Turk the questions that had been plaguing his thoughts. Vincent was a Turk, and Turks were sure to have in-depth knowledge of ShinRa secrets. And for a Turk who had been floating in a mako tank in Hojo's lab...he must have at least _some_ information about the experiments that had made Genesis, Angeal...and himself. Although Sephiroth was more than reluctant to discuss such personal topics as the questions of his origins with so many ears around, the future seemed very uncertain as of this moment, and he may not get another chance to ask.

"Vincent..."

The ex-Turk's red eyes immediately snapped to Sephiroth and all his muscles tensed. Sephiroth barely held back a growl. In all the days that they've spent together in this Gaia-be-damned cage, could the ex-Turk _still_ not believe that Sephiroth wasn't going to suddenly start murdering people at any given moment?

But even more baffling to the former general than the impossibly stubborn ex-Turk however, was himself. He had always been alone. Aside from with Angeal and Genesis, he had always felt different, disconnected. Whatever others thought of him, he never really cared. He had always coldly regarded both darting gazes and hushed whispers, and reverent stares and gushing praises. And he knew that the ex-Turk had good reason to be wary of him after having fought alongside Cloud to prevent his mad self from destroying the planet. So why was the gunman's attitude towards him bothering him so? Sephiroth found himself wanting to shake the ex-Turk, to yell at him to stop being so damned guarded around him.

Before Sephiroth could say or do anything further however, the ship suddenly gave a shudder and began to decelerate. The changing colours through the 'window' also slowed and gradually subsided to reveal a sky of rust red. The sounds of the ship's crew hurrying about could be heard even through the thick walls, and an air of anticipation and apprehension rose about the cages. They have arrived.


	9. Chapter 8: Port

**Author's Notes:** Once again, thank you all very much for your reviews! Boy, some of you sure have some lively imaginations! Although I've always had a rough idea of where this story's going to go, you guys still tickle my imagination with your theories and such and make me wonder about what would happen had the circumstances been different or if it were different people, almost like fanfiction of a fanfiction :D

Yay! Another Nero fan! *high fives*

Sorry about the tease and the cliffies. It's all some insane god's fault! I take no responsibility whatsoever! Just kidding XD

* * *

Chapter 8 - Port

* * *

As the slave ship entered the trading port, it was stopped and inspected by some solemn-looking people in all-black suits carrying scythe-like weapons with black handles. Watchers, Fenris later told his cellmates. They gave especially close scrutiny to the rare slaves, and questioned Gooey-Duck on Husky and Nana. Gooey-Duck fended them off with practiced ease, skillfully burying the Watchers in a flurry of words and paperwork. Neither Sephiroth nor Vincent caught the Watchers' attentions though. As the Watchers turned away from his cage, the deceit unnoticed, Sephiroth caught Gooey-Duck smirking to himself behind the Watchers' backs. In the end, the Watchers found nothing incriminating and allowed the ship to continue on its way.

It was a wonder to watch the ship change itself into a slaver's stall. It apparently didn't stop at the harbour but continued on inland somehow until it reached the slave market. Once there, coloured lights ran down its walls, and those walls receded and shrank to become poles connected by colourful flags. It looks like Gooey-Duck had amassed an impressive collection of slaves, who were now revealed to Sephiroth for the first time.

The weakness hex on the slaves' collars were turned off. The chains that bound their hands and feet were removed. It was so that the slaves will look more lively to their prospective masters. Sephiroth stretched his muscles for the first time since what seemed to be an eternity. The rest of his cellmates did the same, except for Vincent and Inuyasha. Sephiroth supposed that the rumours he heard about the ex-Turk sleeping in a coffin for thirty years straight were true. Maybe even that ridiculous rumour that he had _back-flipped_ out of his coffin right out of his thirty-year-long sleep had been true too. Muscle atrophy apparently means nothing to the man.

Despite their new freedom of movement, their chances of escape had not increased. One measure of security was replaced by another. Gooey-Duck's lackeys littered the premises, carrying wicked-looking chains and whips. And there was a great number of various kinds of demons walking about the stalls.

The demons were mostly humanoid in physical appearance. They had some variations: some had horns some did not, some had scales some did not, some were more human-like, some where more animal-like, etc. But they all had long pointy ears, clawed fingers and long sharp canines, if not an entire mouthful of sharp teeth. With the help of his own demons, Vincent found it easy to differentiate between what was called 'demon lords' and other demons. From the feel of their energies, demon lords were markedly more powerful, and had an additional layer of energy buzzing about the distinctive swirls of energy that was typical for all demons.

"Hey, it looks like Gooey-Duck put K-6 back in with the other Mechas." pointed Fenris. Sephiroth and Vincent looked over to find that indeed, there was a familiar-looking black-and-white cat trying to offer fortune-telling to its cellmates as a gesture of peace. The other Mechas were not impressed though. They growled at K-6 and the dejected robot cat retreated to one corner of the cage.

Sephiroth soon worked out that the different coloured flags indicated the rarity and consequent price range of the different sections of slaves. Since their arrival, most of the buyers that had come by seemed to be lesser demon lords. They came and gawked at Sephiroth's section with raw desire and envy in their eyes, but then shook their heads at the price and chose something from the lower-end sections.

N'geal, now back in his own cage, recognized a lot of these demon lords and pointed out some of the more interesting ones.

"That's Tuesti, or better known by many as 'The Reeve'," the centaur nodded towards a familiar mustached man, "he's from a family of minor demon lords, but he is much valued and respected in Hell for his skills in city-planning and his talent and ingenuity for anything mechanical. He's responsible for the planning of most of Hell's newer cities, hence the nickname."

"He is also known for his kindness towards others and towards his slaves," N'geal studied the Mecha slave-girl that Tuesti had brought with him. She had long pale-yellow hair, large, innocent brown eyes, and a pair of down-turned white-and-pink animal-like mechanical 'ears' poking out from the sides of her head. It appeared that the demon lord was letting the slave-girl do the choosing of his next slave.

"Rumour has it that he is particularly fond of one of his Mecha slaves, one who looks like a young girl with very long hair. That's probably her. It looks like he's here to find a companion for her."

The Mecha girl seem to have suddenly noticed something; she tugged at Tuesti's sleeve and pointed towards K-6.

"What an interesting-looking Mecha," the demon version of Reeve went over and studied the robot cat, "do you have a name?"

"My name is whatever you decide, m'lord," K-6 answered nervously, "my serial number is K-6 1337-HAX-0R."

"Would you like me to take him out and have a closer look, my lord?" Gooey-Duck promptly appeared at the prospective buyer's heel.

"No, that's not needed," said Tuesti as he affectionately patted the Mecha girl's head, "if Chi likes him, then we'll take him. Your serial number is a bit...odd though. Hmm...how about I call you, 'Cait Sith'?"

The robot cat's tail raised in happiness, "Oh that's a wonderful name! Thank you master! Cait Sith! From now on, I will be Cait Sith!"

"Ya think the Reeve would be interested in taking a wolf-youkai as well?" Fenris looked on in envy.

N'geal chuckled, "Not unless that's clockwork ticking away in your chest there pup. Tuesti is also known for his many quirks. One of which is that he always has his nose buried in his work and seems to have little interest in anything organic." Fenris's ears drooped.

As Reeve led his slaves to exit the stall, Cait Sith suddenly turned back and struck a dramatic pose: "Good bye my friends, this is the final, final farewell! Don't forget me, even if another K-6 comes along! You take care of yourselves!"

The Mecha girl blinked and tilted her head at her new companion in curiosity, then she mimicked his pose. Reeve chuckled in amusement and gently ushered his slaves away.

"The little lucky bastard," Fenris sighed as he waved back at the receding form of the black-and-white cat, "I sure am going to miss him."

—

Vincent and his demons watched as Gooey-Duck and Reeve haggled over Cait Sith's price. He knew that this world's Cait Sith may not be exactly the same as the one in his own, but he was pretty sure that the small robot cat didn't have half the abilities and talents that Gooey-Duck was boasting. It was only moments after Reeve's departure that Gooey-Duck turned to another buyer and claimed another slave to be something that his demons' senses and insight disagreed—probably at an inflated price. Raven brows furrowed.

"Does the merchant not risk angering the demon lords when he deceives them about a slave's origins or price?" Vincent wondered out loud.

Fenris came up beside him. The wolf-youkai probably assumed that the gunman was asking for himself and Sephiroth.

"Only if they catch him in the act, but usually they don't make too much of a fuss about it. Heck, slave traders are _expected_ to try to deceive their buyers. All of them do it. But of course, some are better liars than others. And of course, someone like Gooey-Duck would know how to deal with demon lords. Demon lords are very fussy about their reputations. If they don't notice anything and only find out later that they've been deceived, then it is seen as a sign of their own incompetence. So when that happens, they'll be more concerned with hiding their blunder than getting revenge on the merchants. "

"And what of the slaves?" asked Nero.

Fenris shrugged, "I don't know. It depends on the master I guess. They probably won't be too happy about it, but still, slave are very expensive. And honestly, I don't know if those slaves would be any better off if a demon lord finds out the lie before they buy them. Every slave trader is sure to have at least some connection to the crime rings. The crime rings are after-all, major providers of new slaves...and...in some cases...like when it involves suspicious vortices...they _encourage_ these deceptions." The wolf-youkai finished with a meaningful look at Vincent and Sephiroth.

Sephiroth watched quietly as more and more slaves were sold and taken away. As the minutes wore on, more and more customers crowded into the stall, and demons in more and more elaborate robes, who exuded an air of power and arrogance about them began entering the stall and ventured ever closer to the rare-slave section. He looked towards the ex-Turk. It may be now or never.

"Vincent..."

Once again, those red eyes snapped to him and those muscles tensed. Sephiroth bit down his temper and continued, "Vincent, I've seen you before, haven't I...? In the lab..."

Just then, a group of three demons entered the stall, and suddenly everybody seemed to freeze. Even Gooey-Duck's face went slack. Vincent and Sephiroth instantly recognized two of the trio to be demon versions of Tseng and Reno. They both had downward-pointing horns poking out of their hair from the back of their skulls, and had the characteristic long pointed ears of demons. Tseng's hair was longer and tied in a loose ponytail. Reno was missing his goggles, and instead of having twin red tattoos on his cheekbones, he had twin dark dashes under his eyes that somewhat resembled teardrops.

Standing between the two men was a petite young woman who looked to be around Cloud's age. Her hair and eyes were a shade darker than Reno's red mane. She had no horns, though she did have the long pointed ears. And she had a long, dark-coloured tail that resembled that of a lion's.

_Careful, that one is dangerous. _Chaos warned.

The young woman took no notice of the tension of those around her and casually strolled around the cages, looking at the slaves. Everyone gradually resumed whatever they were doing before the three demons' arrival, but every so often, someone's eyes would dart their way.

"It can't be..." breathed N'geal, "that's Tah'rh, Archdaemon of the 7th."

Fenris looked in confusion at N'geal and Gooey-Duck's stunned faces, "What's wrong? We've been expecting one of them, haven't we?"

"But I didn't think it'd be the 7th..." N'geal muttered as his brows furrowed in thought, "Tah'rh had always been adamant against having slaves of any sort in the 7th, even for herself. But," the centaur sighed, "I supposed if the pressure is persistent enough, anyone can be persuaded to give way."

"I heard she's very temperamental, that she killed the previous Archdaemon of 7th Circle in a fit of rage, that even other Archdaemons fear her and shun her. Is that true?" Nero studied the unimposing petite figure. Unlike all the other demon lords, who came wearing their fine, formal, dark-coloured robes, the Archdaemon of 7th Circle was dressed only in casual-looking white sleeveless turtleneck and white pants that reached just below her knees. Oddly enough, she was also barefooted.

"It's true," nodded N'geal, "since taking over the position of Archdaemon, she has proven to be a maverick who willfully refuses to play by the rules. Her refusal to acquire slaves even as an Archdaemon is just one example. But more importantly, she's one of the Undying."

"What does that mean?" Vincent asked when N'geal went silent again in his thoughts.

The centaur's lips curved into a dark grin, "It means exactly what it says. The Undying are an absolute bitch to kill."

"Great," moaned Fenris, "with _my_ luck, I'll probably be the first one she picks."

However, the Archdaemon didn't come to the rare-slave section for some reason, but stayed in the section with the common, low-price slaves. After a while she straightened from her scrutiny of the slaves and wondered out loud: "Why are there so many cages of imps all over the place?"

Instantly an odd sort of tension gripped the air, and by the looks in many of the onlookers' faces, Sephiroth got the distinct impression that the Archdaemon had just asked a very stupid and/or obvious question.

Reno coughed to divert his urge to laugh then explained, "They're different breeds, Boss. These ones here are the common Browns, those ones there are the mid-range Brindles, and the ones over there," the lanky redhead pointed to the imps beside Sephiroth's cage, "are the rare Diamond-backs."

"And that's where we should be going to find a slave befitting of your status, my lord." said Tseng, his dark eyes hard and insistent.

The Archdaemon sighed and crossed her arms in a pose that reminded Vincent very much of Yuffie.

"Fine, let's just get this over with." she said, then followed her subordinates grudgingly to the rare-slave section.

Gooey-Duck's beady eyes gleamed in predatory delight as he spotted the signs of a fat lamb ripe for slaughter.

N'geal frowned, "But then again, the Archdaemon of the 4th and several other demon lords have always said that Tah'rh is but a child trying to fill some oversized shoes, and that her ascension to Archdaemon had been nothing but a fluke."

* * *

**Author's inner theatre of barely controlled insanity:**

_Just then, a group of three demons entered the stall, and suddenly everybody seemed to freeze. Even Gooey-Duck's face went slack. _

"_It can't be..." breathed N'geal, "It's a young, attractive female OC!"_

_Fenris looked in confusion at N'geal and Gooey-Duck's stunned faces, "What's wrong? Is there something the matter with that?"_

"_No…but this __**is**__ a fanfiction…" N'geal muttered as his brows furrowed in thought._

_"'Fan-fic-tion'? K-6 mentioned something about that the other day, I was just going to look it up on the internet…"_

_"No. Don't." Vincent suddenly spoke up in his quiet voice, "Trust me. You don't want to know."_

Sorry, couldn't resist XD

So yeah, Tah'rh's mine.

Tah'rh: *burns* *pillages* *rapes* *kills* *eats kittens* *drowns puppies* *runs with scissors* *wears socks with sandals*

Author: Yep, your run-of-the-mill evil overlord of hell :)

**Additional Disclaimer: **Chi from the anime and manga series "Chobits" belongs to CLAMP. I don't own her nor do I make any money from her.


	10. Chapter 9: Archdaemon

Chapter 9 - Archdaemon

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At first the Archdaemon of the 7th absentmindedly wandered around the cages of rare slaves, listening to Gooey-Duck's introductions of the various slaves with only half an ear and ignoring Tseng's exasperated looks. The sight of the firedrake caught her attention, however.

"Is that...a firedrake? And a high-rank one too!" her red eyes widened in undisguised wonder and curiosity.

"Oh yes, he's one of our most recent catches, fresh out of the Wastelands, from the remote, jagged peaks of the Genesis Highlands! Not only is he high-rank, see those scales along his neck? He's royalty! A most fine catch indeed. Sure to catch the eye of all the other lords and accentuate my lord's own magnificence and power! Would my lord like to have a closer look?" asked Gooey-Duck. The Archdaemon nodded.

Gooey-Duck signaled his lackey, a huge, ugly ogre, to take Genesis from his cage and chain him to one of the poles that now stood at every intersection of the 'corridors' formed from the spaces between the cages.

Genesis was obviously not liking this. He barely managed to hold himself in check when the Archdaemon leaned VERY close to inspect him.

"Hmm...he looks to be a bit...unhealthy."

"Ah...that's because we are still in the process of taming him. He's only been captured very recently, after all. But I assure you he is one magnificent beast... Would you like to see his true form, my lord?"

The Archdaemon nodded again absently. Gooey-Duck then spoke a word and the collar around Genesis's neck began to glow red. The metal bands around his wrists and ankles also began to hum with power. Genesis's eyes widened as he barely chocked back a cry of agony from the forced transformation. His form expanded, shiny red scales multiplied and spread all over his skin, and a pair of huge leather wings sprung from his pack. Finally, the dragon-like creature that was Genesis screamed in pain and rage and instinctively let out a blast of flames at the group of demons before him.

Gooey-Duck quickly erected a shimmering magic shield around himself, but he needn't have bothered. Instead of spreading out, the fire gathered itself and went straight for Reno and the Archdaemon. It swirled around them for a few seconds then disappeared harmlessly. The two redheaded demons seemed to glow slightly after that, but was otherwise completely unaffected. They didn't even bother to change their facial expressions.

Fearing that the firedrake might act recklessly, Gooey-Duck quickly spoke another word to force Genesis back to humanoid form. Genesis groaned from the pain of two forced transformations and dropped weakly to his knees.

"What do you think, my lord?" the slave trader asked tentatively.

"He is very pretty," said the Archdaemon, looking completely unimpressed, "but in 7th Circle, everybody is expected to put their backs into earning their keep, and this one is nothing but a spoiled prince. He's soft and undisciplined. He'll not make the cut. Besides, we already have quite enough fire-elementals in the Circle. He's useless to me."

Genesis's eyes blazed at the insult, but was both too weak and too aware of his situation to retaliate. The ogre shoved him back in his cage and the demon party moved on.

"Then how about this centaur here?" Gooey-Duck gestured to N'geal, "Centaurs are one of the most hard-working and disciplined of the lower beings of the Axis, able to endure the hardest manual labour in the harshest conditions. This one's even been a soldier in 4th Circle's army. He is already well-trained in court etiquette, he speaks all the common tongues of the Axis and so can communicate fluently with other lower beings despite the shortcomings of his race. Be it in the mines working on his hands and knees along with the lowest drudges or serving at banquet tables in the grandeur of an Archdaemon's receiving halls, he comes well-equipped to be put to work right away in any area my lord most see fit."

"A black centaur..." the Archdaemon cocked her head at N'geal, her tail tapping slowly behind her. The centaur stood steady against her scrutiny.

"Tell me, centaur, what fault has the Archdaemon of 4th Circle found in you that he expelled you from his army and sent you here?" asked the Archdaemon.

"There were some tasks he commanded of me that I disagreed with." N'geal answered evenly.

"I thought centaurs were supposed to be loyal and disciplined?" the Archdaemon arched an eyebrow.

N'geal's shoulders stiffened slightly, but his reply remained steady, "Indeed, but we also live and die by our honour. What my liege asked of me, I could not do without forsaking my honour."

The Archdaemon considered this for a moment, then asked, "What was your rank in the 4th's army?"

N'geal hesitated, but then answered truthfully, "I was Commander of the First Division."

The Archdaemon nodded in satisfaction, "Just as I thought."

"My lord...?" Gooey-Duck asked uncertainly.

"Centaurs have a reputation of being forthright and uptight. Black or not, this one's no different. He's too much of a straight arrow. 7th Circle has way too many...mischievous characters..." the Archdaemon, along with Tseng, glanced at Reno, who widened his eyes and tried to look innocent and offended, "...they will eat him alive."

"Hmm...then, may I suggest-"

"Those children..." the Archdaemon's attention suddenly focused on Husky and Nana, her dark red irises turning gold from the center, revealing slitted cat-like pupils. Nana shrank away in fear, her small body trembled violently. Husky huddled closer to her, partially shielding her from the Archdaemon's scrutiny with his body.

Gooey-Duck turned his merchant's smile on full force, "Ah...those children...they were found in the Wastelands, arrived from a spontaneous vortex. They are very rare indeed—in fact, we have not seen anything of the like. To have such rare creatures in one's possession will surely bring the envy of even the highest lords of Hell."

"Can they transform?" asked the Archdaemon, her red-and-gold eyes not once leaving the children to look at the slave merchant.

"Ah...yes..."

"I'd like to see it."

"...Of course..."

The children's collars glowed red and both of them gasped at the pain. The tattoos on Husky's neck seemed to come alive: they grew and extended down his body, morphing into gills and fins, and a bluish-silver fish tail soon replaced the boy's legs. Sephiroth imagined that Nana's tattoos did the same as bat wings extended from her back. Her ears also grew longer, but unlike the demons', hers were rounded at the tips.

"I'd like a closer look at them." the Archdaemon commanded without taking her eyes off the children.

Gooey-Duck jerked his head at his ogre lackey. The hideous hulking monster lurched into the children's cage and undid the chain on their collars from the thick chain on the floor. As it did so it caught the scent of their fear and pain. It sneered in instinctive bloodlust as it fixed its jaundiced eyes upon them and extended its huge clawed hands towards the vulnerable morsels of flesh.

Nana sucked in a breath and screamed.

"Worm-fire! Not like that you oaf!" Gooey-Duck barely had time to yell before the ogre collapsed face-first to the floor.

Everyone in Sephiroth's cage tensed when the ogre reached for the children. They could all see that Nana was at her breaking point and feared that the girl would do something reckless. However, they didn't expect her scream to be in an inhumanly high pitch that rang painfully in their super-human ears, nor did they expect a wave of nausea to hit them at the sound. The ogre took the girl's attack full-force and fell out-cold right on the spot. Gooey-Duck hastily put up a shield but was barely fast enough. The slave trader staggered from dizziness as he rushed into the children's cage.

Husky had evidently had training in close-quarter combat. He lifted and pivoted himself on his arms and unerringly smacked Gooey-Duck hard in the nose with his fish-like tail. The slave trader's eyes watered as he fell backwards. Nana took the opportunity to hook her arms under Husky's and launched them both into the air on her bat-like wings.

All in Sephiroth's cage watched the coming disaster in horror. They fiercely hoped that the children would be able to get away but knew they would not: there were just too many demons about and Nana's speed was not going to get them out of range for spells and such fast enough. What's more, someone in the Archdaemon's party—it wasn't clear exactly which of the three—had promptly put up a large magical barrier that protected the entire party. As a result, the three most dangerous demons in the vicinity were completely untouched by Nana's attack.

Just as Nana had cleared the cage, a hand shot out and casually plucked the girl from the air by her ankle. It was the Archdaemon. In one smooth motion, she flung Nana into the cage bars of the imps. The impact knocked Husky from Nana's grasp; he landed hard and tumbled to several paces away on the floor. The imps went into a wild frenzy; they screeched loudly and clawed at Nana's delicate pale skin and sensitive wings. The poor girl had had the wind knocked out of her, and had to fight for her breath as she frantically scrambled out of their reach. Husky struggled to get up and get over to Nana, but his fish-tail could only flop uselessly on the ground and his collar prevented him from changing back to his more land-suited form. A clawed hand suddenly closed around the arm of Nana's wing from behind and jerked upwards. Nana yelped in pain and surprise.

"I suggest both of you think _very_ hard before making your next move." said the Archdaemon coldly as she tightened her taloned fingers around Nana's wing. Reno adjusted his position slightly and allowed bolts of red-orange energy to dance between his own clawed fingers. His ever-present smirk was still in place, but his pale eyes flashed in silent yet unmistakable threat. Nana whimpered but wisely froze, as did Husky.

Gooey-Duck staggered up to the Archdaemon, obviously still feeling the effects of the children's deeds, and the Archdaemon coolly tossed Nana to him.

"You may put them back. I know their kind. They're called '+Anima'. They're humans who have been gifted with select abilities and traits from another animal. They may make cute little trophies on some demon lord's lap, but other than a few special abilities, they are every bit as weak and fragile as ordinary humans."

Gooey-Duck bowed and scraped and apologized profusely even as he kicked the ogre awake and barked at it to get the children chained and back into their cage.

"My utmost apologies, honoured lord, we were not there during these two's capture..."

"Of course not, I wouldn't expect the likes of you and your lackeys to have the competence to catch a cold," scoffed the Archdaemon, "so who was it, slave trader. Was it the Loveless? The Nobodies? As I recall, there is only one sector of the multiverse that has +Anima, and it is quite stable..."

Gooey-Duck straightened himself defensively, "If my lord is implying that I've been dishonest in the practice of my business, I have documents, forms, proof that-"

"Save your forged papers for the Watchers," the Archdaemon interrupted, "I just want to know that I can shop for slaves in the comfort of the knowledge that I'll not be suddenly finding Watchers on _my_ ass."

"Of course not my lord," assured Gooey-Duck, "this ship has been throughly inspected by the Watchers before we docked. We are most certainly spotless in every respect."

"Good." said the Archdaemon, then her demeanor rapidly lightened as she shifted her attention to Sephiroth's cage, "What pretty mixed-bloods you have here, and quite a large selection too!"

Five pairs of eyes watched from their cage as the slave trader twitched behind the Archdaemon.

"May I suggest this one here..." Gooey-Duck quickly got ahead of the Archdaemon and dragged out Nero.

"He's _very_ pretty..." the Archdaemon's eyes widened and she stared at Nero with unabashed interest. Reno made a sound of agreement. Tseng shot him a hard look, but studied Nero thoughtfully after.

Gooey-Duck grinned in satisfaction as he secured Nero's collar to the pole.

"Humans are such...voracious breeders...fertile with just about anything," the Archdaemon slowly spoke as she circled the hybrid, her tail making lazy arcs behind her, "but, one can't always argue with the results..." She leaned into Nero's neck and inhaled. The hybrid stiffened.

"He smells absolutely delicious! Is he..." the Archdaemon narrowed her eyes, "...a Hell-born?"

"Yes, and he's a brand new slave too." Gooey-Duck said proudly.

The Archdaemon's eyes widened, "A Hell-born hybrid who survived to this age without getting captured and enslaved?"

"Oh yes, and see this..." Gooey-Duck spoke a word, and the power around the metal shackle that bound Nero's demonic claw shifted. Everyone watched in fascination as Nero's arm began to glow bright blue.

"Oooo~~ Shiny~~~" cooed the Archdaemon as she reached out to touch the claw. Nero jerked his claw away at her touch and then snapped it forward instinctively in an attack. The Archdaemon deftly caught the claw mid-strike in one hand and pulled the hybrid close. A white glow emitted from her hand and cracked against Nero's blue. Nero growled into the Archdaemon's face, now barely an inch away.

"And feisty..." the Archdaemon grinned widely in appreciation.

"He'll make a very good addition to my lord's bed..." Gooey-Duck suggested lewdly. Nero's blue eyes blazed as he glared at the slave merchant.

"Hmm...I _do_ like him...but..." the Archdaemon drew back and frowned as she considered, "I'm not sure of the economic viability of pleasure slaves..."

"He's also very hardy. Likely the get of a daeva of the Mid Circles." said Gooey-Duck.

"No..." said the Archdaemon absent-mindedly as she sniffed once more at Nero, "he smells way too good to be that... No...he's the progeny of something much more powerful. In fact, I'd wager I can make a pretty good guess to his bloodline." the Archdaemon grinned wickedly at the hybrid. Nero's eyes widened. Even Gooey-Duck looked surprised at that statement.

Tseng sighed quietly behind his oblivious sovereign as he glanced at Gooey-Duck's gleaming, greedy eyes. The slave merchant was now sure to demand a high price for all that the Archdaemon had said about the hybrid.

"So...Boss, can we keep him?" Reno asked, the fiery redhead was clearly running out of patience.

The Archdaemon frowned as she looked to Reno, "He does smell very delicious...too delicious... Even if I don't use him as a pleasure slave, that will not stop a lot of the horny bastards in the Circle from flying at him like flies to carrion—you know those I'm talking about."

Tseng rolled his eyes. Reno's shoulders dropped.

"Aww Boss... Come on!"

"So... my lord...?" asked Gooey-Duck.

The Archdaemon sucked in a breath through her teeth and ran a hand through her hair. Her tail swept back and forth agitatedly, "Tempting..._very_ tempting..." She paused for a long time staring at Nero with her brows furrowed. "But no." her tail-tip dipped in affirmation, "Way too many potential problems."

Reno moaned in despair. Tseng cleared his throat loudly and glared at the redhead. None of the demons took note of Gooey-Duck's disappointed look however.

As the ogre shoved Nero back into the cage, the Archdaemon noticed Fenris and frowned in puzzlement, "That one there, he looks like a regular wolf-youkai, why do you have him here with hybrids?"

"We _had_ put that one in with the other youkai when we first acquired him, but we soon found that he's a better fit here. You see, my lord, his previous master was one who called himself 'The Warlock of the West'." explained Gooey-Duck.

"That idiot who got himself killed in the marshlands?" said the Archdaemon.

"...Yes. As my lord may know, that one was constantly chasing after new knowledge and new magic. He bought quite a number of slaves, and did experiments on them."

Four pairs of eyes turned to Fenris. The wolf-youkai's jaw tightened but he carefully kept his face impassive.

Those standing outside their cage took no notice as Gooey-Duck continued, "Shortly before his death, he had been working on creating a youkai-demon hybrid. This one is one of the results. He retains all his youkai characteristics, but he also has some demon ones. For one, he has our ability to communicate with all creatures who use spoken language."

Sephiroth's eyes rose to the demons at this tidbit of information. He had studied Wutaian as part of his training in childhood, and Hojo had attributed his fast mastery of the language as another success of the his own self-proclaimed 'genius'. But now Sephiroth wondered, if he hadn't studied the language, would he still have not noticed any difficulty understanding the locals during his first mission in Wutai.

The Archdaemon crouched down to peer closer at Fenris through the cage bars.

"Interesting, very interesting...a youkai with demon abilities... I've always found it a pity that with all the better, stronger beings, humans are the only creatures capable of breeding mixed-blood children with demons. And he's quite handsome too. Yes...he'll be very good indeed." the Archdaemon bared her long sharp canines in a wide grin and nodded to herself. Fenris's eyes widened. Tseng suddenly cleared his throat, and the Archdaemon shot him an annoyed look.

"But," she sighed in exasperation as she shot another annoyed glare at the greenish mark on Fenris's shoulder, "_apparently..._second-hand slaves are beneath Archdaemons as show-pieces to pompous bastards."

Fenris looked visibly relieved as Tseng glared warningly at his sovereign as discreetly as he could.

"If my lord prefer youkai, we also have a dog-hanyou there. He's brand new." suggested Gooey-Duck hurriedly, "Not only that, he's a _dai_-hanyou! Very rare, and almost as hardy as hybrids."

"True, but," the Archdaemon stood up and shook her head, "hanyou are a tad...unstable. They have that...monthly...cycle...thing..."

Nero raised an eyebrow at Inuyasha. The dog-hanyou hotly glared back.

"...That kind of weakness will very likely be fatal in the 7th." finished the Archdaemon. "Say, what about that one over there, the one who had been staring quite boldly at us?" she pointed at Sephiroth.

"Ah...that one..." said Gooey-Duck slowly as a look of uncertainty passed over his wrinkled features.

"Skip the intro and take him out." commanded the Archdaemon impatiently.

"...Yes, my lord."

As the ogre led Sephiroth out of the cage by the collar, the ex-general stood up to his full height and towered over the petite Archdaemon. His long silver hair shimmered about his shoulders and against his back, straight and untangled as always. His eyes shone coldly down at the Archdaemon, not a glimmer of fear in their mako-green depths. Reno gave a whistle of appreciation. Even Tseng looked impressed.

"He's _magnificent_!" breathed Tah'rh, not at all caring about her slack jaw.

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**Author's Notes:** Many thanks to all of you who reviewed :) Hope you enjoyed this latest chapter, even though it's mostly talk :P Sorry about the little bit of tease again, I really thought to finish this in one chapter, but slave-shopping is harder work than I thought and it's getting really really long ^_^; Hopefully I will be able to get to the meaty parts of the story soon. I really can't wait to show you what I have in mind.

To xNightmare: Sorry that I confused you and anybody else at the end of last chapter with the bout of insanity from the oh-so-confusing place of my mind XP I've been reading fanfiction for a while now but have been taking year-long breaks from it from time to time. This time when I came back to fanfiction, I noticed that there's a trend of treating young attractive female original characters like a…I donno… an open wound, is best I can describe it. Young female OCs receive more scrutiny than other types of characters, and some authors dance in tiptoes around them, afraid to touch them. And although it's mostly a trend of fanfiction readers and writers, it had spread to published novels and other mediums too, and I see the 'M' word popping up for quite a few established young female characters of various fandoms, including FF7. I also found out recently that there are 'tests' in grocery-list format for fictional characters, in some of which the list of 'characteristics you should stay the hell away from' is so long and the standard so stringent that any character that is 'good' for them must either be minor characters or about as interesting as lint. So yeah, I kinda indulged in my rebellious side a bit with Tah'rh. I guess I should have written a few more paragraphs on Tah'rh's physical appearance and given her more streaks of colours in her hair to raise more alarm bells, but I'm too lazy :P

But yeah, that was just a sudden little spoof that came to my mind, it's nothing important :D

And to those reviewers cracking whips and/or other weaponry: an army marches on its stomach, and story slaves write on a steady diet of reviews ;)


	11. Chapter 10: Twenty Jin

Chapter 10 - Twenty Jin

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The Archdaemon circled slowly around Sephiroth as she did Nero, sniffing at the ex-general from time to time. Sephiroth held himself still against the unpleasant feelings rising from his gut. The situation of being put on display and examined like a lab specimen was much too familiar.

"He looks like a hybrid...but he smells...different...from that one there." the Archdaemon nodded towards Nero.

"My lord is most perceptive and wise," Gooey-Duck's smile looked a tad exaggerated, "he's a hybrid, yes, but this one is a Mortal-born."

The Archdaemon made a non-committal sound as she reached out and ran her hand along Sephiroth's well-muscled arm. Sephiroth struggled to stay still as goosebumps rose in her wake. He had never liked to be touched. Since his earliest memories, touch had always meant either cold bony fingers clamped around his arm, tugging him to places he didn't want to go, poking, prodding, arranging him around the various sterile metals of medical equipment like a rag doll, or harsh reprimand, or the violence of battle. And the situation and its familiarity certainly did _not_ help. Tah'rh took no notice of his discomfort however, and continued until she reached his hand. She grabbed it and turned it upwards for inspection, running her thumb across the callouses.

"A fighter...a swordsman." she said, mostly to herself.

"We have been fortunate to see him in battle before we made his capture. He's a most impressive fighter." said Gooey-Duck, still sporting that exaggerated smile.

"Well if he got himself captured by the likes of you and that ogre there then he can't be _that_ impressive." the Archdaemon scoffed, not bothering to spare the slave trader a glance. Sephiroth didn't bother to take offense. He'd been in situations where ShinRa scientists hovered about their precious specimens, flaunting them at each other. His examiner's gibe was not directed at him.

Gooey-Duck stiffened a bit, but that smile managed to stay in place, "We assure you that he is indeed a most impressive warrior. Of course humble servants like us had not the skill to bring him down..."

"Too' down na pack o' Wastelan' Hounds, wit da' un he did." the ogre suddenly spoke, gesturing to Vincent. Gooey-Duck turned to it incredulously, looking like he wanted to throttle the stupid thing.

The three demons' attentions turned to Vincent.

"Is that right?" said the Archdaemon, amused, "take that one out too then, I want a look at the both of them."

Gooey-Duck could only school his features back into their too-pleasant place as he kicked the ogre to task.

Vincent's silent grace contrasted sharply with the ogre's lurching clumsiness as he was led from the cage.

"An assassin..." the Archdaemon murmured. Tseng and Reno also looked on thoughtfully. As the ex-Turk straightened his also-impressive height beside Sephiroth, his untamed ebony hair stark against his pale skin, his crimson eyes cold and unafraid, all three demons' eyes widened, and a hush fell over the onlookers. It was the Archdaemon who finally voiced the sentiment: "He's absolutely _beautiful_!"

"Is he also a Mortal-born hybrid?" asked Tseng as the Archdaemon circled Vincent, her tail swinging in a pleased dance.

"Yes, my lords. Nothing gets past your exalted eyes." Gooey-Duck's fake smile took on a smidgen of genuineness as greed once again flashed in his dark eyes.

"Say uh...Boss, I heard that humans are social creatures, and so are their get. So they need to be bought in pairs...or even better, in threes, just in case, you know, one of them dies and the other gets lonely."

The Archdaemon's brow rose as she glanced towards Reno, "Isn't that for _elephants_?"

Reno shrugged, "Works for humans and hybrids too."

"We're _not_ getting the Hell-born, Reno." sighed the Archdaemon in exasperation, "Just one of them will cost between 50 Yem to 150 Yem per month on food alone, times however long they manage to live, plus the cost of energy and maintenance for their dwelling, and the projected cost of..." The Archdaemon continued to calculate away to herself as she turned away from the dejected redhead and continued her inspection of the 'hybrids'. Reno huffed in a manner that said this particular mood of his sovereign's is one that he'd seen many times before, and he knew that there was no use trying to argue with her during it. He looked to Tseng, who shrugged back at him with an equally knowing smirk.

"They have...a very strong smell of humans about them..." the Archdaemon slowly drew back and narrowed her eyes at the two men.

"That's perhaps from their Mortal-born heritage." Gooey-Duck hurriedly explained.

"Still..." the Archdaemon furrowed her brows as she stared at the 'hybrids' contemplatively.

"They also arrived from a spontaneous vortex, probably never spent any time in Hell their whole lives...it's not unusual for hybrids to acquire a few extra human traits if they spend too much time in the Mortal worlds."

The Archdaemon cast a long sideways glance at the slave trader, then looked back at the two men, lifting her inhuman eyes straight into their faintly glowing ones, "How old are you? And by that I mean how many years have passed since the day you were born?"

Gooey-Duck's smile twitched, his beady eyes widened. Nero's blue eyes flashed as they snapped up to the demons. Behind the slave merchant and the demon party, N'geal's brows furrowed as his dark eyes trained onto the Archdaemon's back.

Sephiroth frowned, completely caught by surprise at the question. He himself had not considered that question in a _very_ long time. If ShinRa's files were to be trusted, and he wasn't sure if they were, then he'd have been 25 by the time he was sent on that mission to Nibelheim...and he was pretty sure that 5 years passed before the next time he..."died"... Since then...3 years? 2?

"60."

Sephiroth's eyes pivoted in surprise towards the ex-Turk beside him.

The Archdaemon nodded. "And you?" she asked Sephiroth.

"Thirty...three."

"And..." a slow smile appeared ominously on the Archdaemon's face, "That is the truth you're telling? I do _so_ despise liars and I _do_ have a reputation for...disposing of persons who are untruthful to me."

From the corner of his eyes, Sephiroth saw Gooey-Duck blanch. Whispers rose from among the onlookers. The former general's sensitive ears faintly caught the words "previous Archdaemon", "murder", "uncontrollable", "tantrum", and "undying brat". Whether she heard them or not, the Archdaemon paid them no mind.

"I see no reason to lie about my age." said Vincent calmly, his red eyes steady.

"It's accurate to the best of my knowledge." said Sephiroth coolly, matching Vincent's steadiness.

"What about those Alraune over there," the Archdaemon gestured to the plant-creatures in the cage beside them, "what is the shape of the patterns on their petals?"

Sephiroth looked towards the plant-creatures and the flower petal-like growths on their bodies and frowned in puzzlement, not seeing where the Archdaemon's trying to go with this.

"Solid colours, different on each individual, with darker coloured spots near the origin, also differing in colour between individuals." the former general answered truthfully.

Vincent nodded his agreement.

"And that is also the truth you're telling?" red-and-gold eyes bore into the two men.

"What reason would I have to lie about such things?" Sephiroth questioned back boldly, momentarily lapsing in his self-control due to confusion and the discomforting familiarity of being questioned and examined and held in display.

"Indeed," nodded the Archdaemon, seeming to not take any offense from Sephiroth's show of disrespect and instead looking quite smug, "there would be no reason for you two to lie. Someone else however..." She turned menacingly to the now wide-eyed and unsmiling Gooey-Duck.

"Did you know, that hybrids can sometimes be somewhat...difficult to define and identify?" asked the Archdaemon, seemingly speaking to the two men but keeping her eyes on the slave trader, "Human genes do sometimes interfere with demon ones in rather unexpected ways. But there are certain things that are constant enough that can be used to test for true hybrids as opposed to impostors. The time it takes for them to reach maturity for example...as related to the amount of time they spent in Hell during their maturing years. And so, an age test is usually the staple of a series of tests that is administered to expose the true nature of a supposed hybrid. As is the sight test. But _you two_ would know nothing about that, would you? Since you are nothing but a couple of modified** HUMANS**!" The Archdaemon advanced upon the ashen-faced slave trader, her canines bared, her eyes almost pure gold. Reno and Tseng smoothly took a step so that their positions now blocked off any escape routes the slave trader might have tried.

"My lord, please! You must understand...I bear no ill intent, this is simply..."

"Simply what? An oversight? The testing methods for hybrids were developed _by_ and _for_ slave traders. Are you telling me that you, one of the best slave trader of all, would fail to administer even the most basic of the tests?" Energy began to buzz and crackle in the air about the Archdaemon. All the other demons in the stall tensed and held still.

"My lord!" Gooey-Duck dropped to his knees, "I am ever the humble servant to my most honoured lords! _Never_ would I dream of deceiving my most mighty masters! How would I dare? I am but a poor merchant, weak and foolish, only managing to scrape together a hard living through the work of these unworthy hands, only hoping, praying that I would never fail my masters through my abundant inadequacies..."

Sephiroth stared incredulously: the despicable slave trader was actually starting to weep, making himself the very picture of pitifulness.

"ENOUGH!" the Archdaemon looked as if she was ready to burst with rage at the slave trader's display, "if you're going to beg for your life, you better get to the point before I ram it up your lying ass!"

"My lord, I meant no deceit! As this dull-witted assistant of mine had so oafishly blurted, these two took down an entire pack of Wasteland Hounds before our very eyes with nothing but the most primitive weapons! And that one," the slave trader pointed to Vincent, "even transformed into a Galian Beast! We thought surely that was proof enough that they can be nothing less than true hybrids!"

The Archdaemon's eyes widened. She turned to Vincent, suddenly loosing all interest in the blubbering slave trader.

"Show me." she commanded.

Vincent's collar promptly glowed red. The gunman dropped to one knee and gritted his teeth against the pain. Red energy swirled around him and swallowed him. When it dissipated, kneeling in place of the pale ex-Turk was a horned monster with purple-black fur and a blood red mane. The monster snarled and roared its pain and fury. The Archdaemon bent down so that her eyes were level with the monster's. The monster immediately quieted, but it remained tense and a low growl rumbled in its throat. Slowly, the Archdaemon reached out a hand and held it in front of the wary monster, keeping eye contact all the while. Tentatively, the monster sniffed the offered hand, and gradually the low growl subsided. The Archdaemon pushed her hand under the monster's chin and cupped the long muzzle.

"Humans are indeed vile creatures," the Archdaemon murmured, still looking into the monster's golden eyes, "always tampering in things that they have no right, no idea of the consequences..."

"My lord?" Tseng inquired quietly.

The Archdaemon drew back from the monster. "You may turn off the hex now," she informed the slave trader, "he's ready to change back."

Gooey-Duck blinked and hesitated, but obeyed. Red energy once again swirled up, and then it was once again a pale ebony-haired man that crouched beside Sephiroth. Vincent was breathing hard, but his crimson eyes were clear, and he didn't seem to be harmed.

"Can the other one transform too?" the Archdaemon asked without looking at the slave trader.

Gooey-Duck quickly set the spell to work.

Sephiroth watched as his collar began to glow with no small amount of apprehension. Still, he wasn't prepared for the revolting sensation of violation when unseen claws dug themselves into that most private part of him hidden deep within. Those claws twisted in his being, pushing and pulling until his wings, that part of him that he'd always managed to keep to himself, even from the prying tools of ShinRa scientists, was forced against his will from his back. The former general shook with the effort to stop himself from lashing out in outrage.

"One wing? Is he supposed to fly with that?" incredulous whispers and condescending chuckles rose from a few of the onlookers.

The Archdaemon however, made no comment as she stared thoughtfully at the silver general, her eyes still partly gold. She reached out a hand again and this time, it took on that white glow that had cracked against Nero's claw. Her talons looked substantially longer than moments before, and Sephiroth was certain that it was not just a visual illusion created by the glow. The former general couldn't help moving away warily from the hand.

"What?" the Archdaemon arched an eyebrow at him in mocking amusement, "afraid I'll hurt you?"

Sephiroth glared at her in fury.

"Relax, I just want to get a better look at your incorporeal wing." said the Archdaemon, her amusement not at all abated by the glare.

Sephiroth blinked in confusion, then froze when the Archdaemon's hand touched _it_. Mako eyes widened in astonishment. How is this even possible? Nobody—save maybe Angeal and Genesis—knew, or could possibly have known about his _other_ wing. It was invisible, insubstantial, not even he himself had ever managed to be able to touch that wing even though he had always known that it was there, in the same way that people know exactly where their hands and feet are without needing to look. The glow from the Archdaemon's hand flowed forth like steam from heated springs. Sephiroth watched in amazement as it brushed up against his secret wing and revealed faint, translucent outlines of delicate feathers.

"Amazing..." whispered Tah'rh, "You might even be able to fly the Currents."

Sephiroth frowned at her in question, but the Archdaemon had already withdrawn her hand and turned her attention back to Gooey-Duck.

"40 Jin."

Gooey-Duck's beady eyes bulged, "F-for... which one, my lord?"

"For two." the Archdaemon said cooly.

Gooey-Duck's jaw went slack. "T-twenty Jin...each? B-but even as non-hybrids, they're worth..."

"Worth what? Considering that you and your rotten tongue tried to deceive me into buying a couple of worm-begotten_ humans_ as hybrids, I'd say 20 Jin is a very good price indeed—a much higher price than what your sorry life is worth...especially if it's really as _miserable_ as you say it is." the Archdaemon narrowed her eyes and adjusted her stance to one of subtle threat, as if daring Gooey-Duck to refuse her offer. Reno and Tseng stood vigilant behind the slave trader.

Gooey-Duck's beady eyes wavered uncertainly for a few moments as he studied the maverick Archdaemon before him, and finally, he settled on swallowing his misgivings. "Of course, I am most grateful for the graciousness that my lord has shown such an unworthy and foolish servant." Gooey-Duck carefully schooled his features in place and slipped back into humble merchant mode, "if my lords will please come with me..." the slave trader bowed and gestured as he led the three demons through the procedures and paperwork that made the purchase final.

* * *

"...You're not going to mark them, my lord?" Gooey-Duck asked carefully.

"They both have very beautiful bodies. If I'm going to put a permanent mark on them, then I must think carefully on the design..." the Archdaemon answered absentmindedly as she deftly punctured skin and cartilage on Sephiroth's left ear and fastened a broad silver earring ornately decorated with emerald patterns.

Sephiroth gritted his teeth. It wasn't because of the pain. That was minor and his enhanced healing quickly took care of it. It was that he was being touched way more than he cared for. He noticed though, that Vincent too did not like to be touched. He had become somewhat better at noticing the ex-Turk's subtle changes of expression over the past days, and it was plain to his practiced observation that Vincent had been near ready to spring out of his own skin when the slave trader's bony hands worked over his neck, wrists and feet to remove the shackles and the slave collar.

"...These will work well enough until I come up with something satisfactory," the Archdaemon finished as she fastened an identically patterned ruby and gold earring onto Vincent's ear, "no one in the Axis will be able to look on these and not know who they belong to."

Sephiroth wondered sardonically if her 'these' and 'they' meant him and Vincent or the earrings—or if there's a difference at all. He hadn't failed to notice that the patterns on their earrings resembled the ones on the larger, more decorated earring on the Archdaemon's own ear. Her property.

At least the earrings weren't ugly...and at least in appearance didn't resemble the tags on the ears of Hojo's lab animals...too much. Glancing at the man standing beside him, the former general supposed that the simple and elegant design does look good on the ex-Turk's pale ear.

Sephiroth had watched the purchasing procedures of the slaves who had been bought earlier. It turned out the slave-marks, such as the one on Fenris's shoulder, were no mere tattoos of coloured ink. They were seared into the flesh with the raw magic power of their demon masters. Perhaps that was why the demons felt no need to mark their slaves in places less easily hidden by clothing or hair. In fact, it seemed that slave marks could be placed just about anywhere on a slave's body that their masters see fit. Sephiroth had long inferred that demon eyes can somehow see more of the world than human ones. And the moment the too-warm earring touched his skin, thoughts of how snakes could lock onto their targets with deadly accuracy in the blackest of nights through their ability to see in infrared light flashed through his mind.

Interestingly enough, the slave merchant was leading the Archdaemon through the purchase procedures with meticulous care, not at all trying to gain some petty revenge on her by "overlooking" any steps or such. Sephiroth knew that it wasn't because of any love the slave merchant had for this overbearing customer. More likely it was because of the watchful Tseng and Reno at his back. That and neatly done paperwork also seemed to be part of a slave merchant's business reputation.

"...My lord...what about your slave collars..." Gooey-Duck asked uncertainly when the Archdaemon drew back from the unshackled slaves and looked as if she were ready to go.

"I do not need such heavy-handed methods to control my slaves." the Archdaemon snorted dismissively.

"But...how will my lord make the slaves go with you to your Circle?"

The Archdaemon raised an eyebrow at the slave trader, "I don't see why they won't just follow me there."

Gooey-Duck and the rest of the onlookers had to work hard to not look like they thought the Archdaemon was insane.

"Unless...they have become fond of this place and wish to stay longer in _your_ tender care and good company." the Archdaemon gave the slave trader a sarcastic smirk.

Sephiroth heard a cough from the cage he had shared with Fenris and the others. He wasn't sure from which one of the three remaining young men it originated.

What fate awaited them, Sephiroth wondered. For the children, who had clearly angered the sadistic slave merchant, their immediate future was certain to be grim. And what of the headstrong and spirited Inuyasha and Nero, and the fiery Genesis. And Fenris and N'geal, who had aided him with their own special brands of wisdom throughout his time here, much like Zack and Angeal had in by-gone days in SOLDIER.

"_**He's dead. He's dead because of you, boy. Because of your pathetic weakness."**_

Hojo's words echoed, unbidden, through his memory.

No. This is no time to allow himself to get attached, to get sentimental. Those things made one weak, and he didn't need them. He had long known since the very beginning that they were going to part ways one way or another, had known that nothing but grim reality awaited him and his shackled companions. He should have known better long ago too, in SOLDIER. For now, his own survival was uncertain, and he could not afford such weakness to slip through.

"I like to think that _my_ tender care is somewhat better, if not the company." the Archdaemon turned her smirk to Vincent and Sephiroth and continued, "Your primary purpose is to look good and to make me look good in front of other Archdaemons, so you can be assured that unless you make yourselves liabilities or dead-weight drains on the economy, I'll not mistreat you—least it makes me look like I've dragged something out of the sewers to stand in for a slave. Plus," her dark red eyes glistened mischievously, "although Junon is a major trading port in Hell, the parts of the Currents that flow through it only lead to other parts of Hell and select regions of the Wastelands. However...7th Circle is well-supplied by various tributary Streams of the Aether Currents, as well as seasonal vortices, that can access any part of the Wastelands. Its libraries contain maps and charts detailing the courses and flows of the Currents and the routes between various parts of the Axis and even parts of the Mortal worlds. The Circle also has many aircrafts and ships capable of traversing the Currents. For any slave wishing to escape back to their own world, I'd think it's a very good place to start, no?"

Now not even Gooey-Duck can keep from looking like he thought the Archdaemon was insane.

Tseng and Reno exchanged a look between them—one of exasperation for Tseng, and one of amusement for Reno.

Sephiroth glared at the grinning Archdaemon. The manipulative bastard!

Tseng politely cleared his throat, "My lord, even so, it would be better if we give them some kind of collar and cuffs to affirm their status and their ownership. Their appearance and their smell are sure to attract the attentions of less than reputable individuals. It's better to be safe."

The Archdaemon thought about it for a moment, then nodded in agreement. She gathered a globe of daylight and condensed it until it hurt Sephiroth's fascinated eyes, then she divided it into five portions and wrapped them around Vincent's neck, wrists, and ankles. With a crack of enchantment, the light solidified into five ornate golden bands of varying shapes and sizes, all of them decorated with patterns that matched the earring. She then did the same for Sephiroth, only his bands were silver. All the other demons except for Reno and Tseng tensed uneasily at the display of light magic.

"...My lord, you're not going to put any hexes on those...?" asked Gooey-Duck, pretty much given up by now on trying to keep up appearances.

"Not unless their behaviour say I should." the Archdaemon flashed her new slaves with a wide toothy grin that once again reminded Vincent of Yuffie...when she had her thieving paws on some mastered materia...

"...And...if my lord don't mind this old servant asking...do you require us to assist you with clothing for your slaves?"

"Why?" asked the Archdaemon with an raised eyebrow, "They look fine as they are."

"I agree." supplied Reno as he eyed the two men who were dressed in nothing but the earrings and the metallic bands.

"My lord," Tseng cut in, "I have made some preparations myself, I hope you don't mind." He reached into his cloak and pulled out long lengths of cloth. Sephiroth observed in mild amusement that he looked quite like one of those magicians pulling out large quantities of colourful scarfs. The dark-haired demon deftly wrapped the cloths around the two men so that the earrings and metal bands were exposed to all who cared to see, but that everything else was safely covered.

"Are we done here yet?" the Archdaemon huffed in impatience and glared at Gooey-Duck as if daring him to say anything more. The slave trader didn't. "Good. Then let's get out of this shit hole." She then tossed a cheeky grin over her shoulder at her new slaves and strode out of the stall as if she fully expected them to follow.

Sephiroth fumed at her assured stride and the smug arcs of her tail. Determined to beat her at whatever game she was playing, he took one last look over his shoulder at those who had been his unlikely companions all these past days, and with a glance at the silent ex-Turk beside him, he followed the Archdaemon into the streets, with his back straight and his head unbowed.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Phew! What a long chapter. Thank you very much for all your reviews and your support. I feel all warm and fuzzy :) I apologize for all my cliffies ^^; though I'm glad that some of you enjoyed this as much as you did :)

There's been some changes going on in my life. Namely, I got a new job :D that is sure to consume my every waking minute, and then some, for at least the first month or so D: So I probably won't be able to update nearly as often as I have been doing. But I am fully planning to finish this story. It just might take much…much…longer than I first thought ^^;

But, as the old saying goes: a picture is worth a thousand words. So here's an additional "1000 words" just for you awesome people ;)

roamingfirefly.[deviantart].[com/]#/d5364q6 (remove the brackets)

It's a piece of artwork I did for this story. When this site rolled out the image manager and said we could upload images to be our stories' covers, my imagination started mulling over what the cover of this story could be. But when I drew it out, I found out two things: this site can only display the image in a tiny little rectangle, and, my drawing might be a bit...suggestive ^^; So far in this story, there's not been anything too explicit…I think… I donno, it's kinda hard sometimes to tell what could be not ok for 16 years olds but then be perfectly fine with about 2 years of additional age. And I have been hearing of stories that got deleted without warning for having the word "hell" in the summary. So yeah, maybe I shouldn't give this story a cover that looks like that to alarm people here ^^;

To xNightmare: I've read my share of God-awful mary-sues too ^^; But these days, people seem a bit too eager to point fingers, particularly at young female characters. Sometimes they use "mary-sue" as a weapon to bash on canon female love interests of male protagonists, and sometimes people would gush over how cool and powerful a male character is, but would accuse a female character with the same characteristics as a mary-sue. And it is because I've read those bad mary-sues that I know how unfair it is for those characters to be accused of it. And I think those grocery-list online "tests" for mary-sue-ness may be more hindering than helpful for aspiring writers. Context is important. Simply telling people that a "good" character can't have any prominent physical features, that they can't be too tall, too short, too beautiful, too ugly, can't have prominent scars or tattoos, that they can only have a perfectly normal and happy, tragedy-free childhood, that they can't have had anyone close to them die, that they can't be musically gifted, that they can't have healing abilities, that they can't speak more than one language…etc. is a tad restricting. (I love that last one by the way. Although it might be normal for people to speak only one language in the US and UK, in much of the rest of the world, including where I'm living, it is an expected norm that you can speak at least two. I speak three. So can everybody else and their grandma around me) And even self-inserts can be good, it all depends on how the author handles the characters and the story. I've recently been pleasantly surprised by "The Stranger from the Sky" by acebrainbuster. It is a blatant and unapologizing self-insert fic, but it's a surprisingly enjoyable read ;)


	12. Chapter 11: Fireworks

**Author's Notes:** Sorry for the long wait, but here's chapter 11, finally :D

Thank you sooo much for your reviews and your support! And some of you's ideas for poor Sephiroth and Vincent! You're evil! XD

It's a bit of a short chapter, but the next one will be much longer and hopefully won't take as long.

* * *

Chapter 11- Fireworks

* * *

"There! We got the rare slaves, you happy? Twenty Jin...we could have bought a gnome for twenty _Yem_!"

"You're exaggerating my lord, the cheapest gnome was 50 Yem. And a gnome is not nearly befitting enough for an Archdaemon. They are simply not acceptable."

"The Archdaemon of 6th Circle has a gnome."

"Only because he already has 26 rare slaves, and he only wanted something expendable to test his new whips on."

"A new slave just for testing whips...a frivolous expenditure I'd say. You don't need a _gnome_ for _that_." the Archdaemon glared hotly at Tseng, obviously imagining him to be that gnome.

"And my lord, what will the other lords think if they see lash marks on your First Counsellor?" Tseng raised an unintimidated eyebrow at the Archdaemon.

"They'll think we've had hot kinky sex. Speaking of which, I think you owe me just that after that slave-buying shit you dragged me through."

Reno guffawed, "Hey hey, don't think to leave _me_ out of the fun!"

"Never crossed my mind." grinned the Archdaemon.

Tseng gave his sovereign a hard glare, "Well I'm _glad_ that you two can even _think_ of these things when there's a full stack of reports to be reviewed before the end of today."

"You really know how to kill the mood, don't you?" the Archdaemon grumbled darkly while Reno groaned.

"And we have an additional stack of forms that need to be filled." said Tseng mercilessly.

"Whatever. Reno, get us out of here." the Archdaemon huffed and flopped herself into one of the seats of a waiting aircraft that resembled a helicopter.

Sephiroth silently followed the demons to the aircraft, extremely annoyed that they seemed very confident that their new slaves would not try to escape while they bickered, and even more annoyed that these demons have every right to their confidence. The busy streets of the bustling port were filled with demons. Many of them stared or sniffed at him and Vincent with greed and ill intent flashing in their eyes, but then they would catch sight of their earrings and their company and quickly retrieve their wayward stares. The contraptions and vehicles that sat here and there along the confusing jumble of winding streets that the demons navigated with easy sureness were foreign to his eyes and many of them beyond his experiences to guess their function. The former general had to admit that he was currently most ill-equipped to execute an escape plan of any sort. The ex-Turk was sure to have come to this conclusion as well. Those calculating eyes of his were also taking in those streets and contraptions as he too followed obediently behind their new masters.

Sephiroth paused however, when he got to the aircraft. The two front seats were obviously for the pilots, which in this case looks to be Reno and Tseng. The Archdaemon had seated herself in one of the seats the immediate row behind, leaving just enough room for two more passengers in the same row on either side of her, and behind her were two more rows of seats. Sephiroth had no idea what he was supposed to do or where he was supposed to sit, and the demons were busy minding other things and were not giving him any directions or hints. Sephiroth remembered prior to the Wutai War he was often sent on bodyguard duty for ShinRa executives when they met with Wutai businessmen and leaders (his presence there was really more for intimidation). For ShinRa executives, the most important person sat in the passenger seat beside the driver, while the secretary sat in the back. Wutai was the opposite, the most important person was the one sitting in the backseat while the secretary was the one sitting in the passenger seat. Getting such seemingly minor details as seating arrangements wrong often had consequences that ranged from public embarrassment to breakdown of diplomatic relations. And in formal dinners between the top leaders of the main continent and Wutai, the seating plans for the attendees were carefully and meticulously planned for weeks in advance.

As Sephiroth hesitated, the Archdaemon looked over at him and Vincent impatiently, "Well what are you waiting for? Get in already!"

Gritting his teeth in annoyance and steeling himself for whatever was going to come, Sephiroth briskly shoved himself into the seat that seemed the safest bet—in the row immediately behind the Archdaemon. If she was going to strike at him or taunt him, then at least she'll need to expend a bit of time and energy to turn around. And whatever she does, he was _not_ going to cower in the seats farthest away from her. Vincent followed after him and sat in the same row, but kept himself as far away from the ex-general as possible. The Archdaemon turned and looked at them, and both men tensed.

"The seat-belts are over there" pointed the Archdaemon, "you'll want to strap yourselves in. Reno's flying is a bit...infamous."

"Hey!" protested said infamous pilot good-humouredly.

Sephiroth blinked. Beside him, Vincent quietly clicked his seat-belt into place. Sephiroth gingerly followed suit. Reno's hands flew over the various switches and controls with easy confidence, and the aircraft obediently hummed to life.

As they steadily rose into the pale pink sky, Sephiroth and Vincent were regaled with the unobstructed view of the demon city for the first time. It was a trading city through and through. Markets of various kinds selling a wide range of commodities, some familiar, some decidedly strange, bustled in every corner of the city as far as the eye could see. Vehicles of many different shapes and sizes hurried in and out of the markets like ants from their mound. The sea-port that they had come through, and now were heading towards, was packed with huge ships as well as land vehicles and aircrafts. As they got closer, Sephiroth noticed that some of the ships and aircrafts that were coming from and going out to the dark-coloured sea seem to have suddenly appeared from or disappeared into nowhere, with coloured lights dripping past their hulls like droplets of water before they made their unexplained entrance or exit. Reno flipped a few more switches, and they began to speed up. Sephiroth looked out the windows to see those same coloured lights beginning to appear on and trail after the rotor blades of their aircraft.

Suddenly, a beeping noise sounded and Tseng reached into his cloak and took out what looked like a PHS. The dark-haired demon's brows furrowed ominously as he listened to the speaker on the other side of the line.

"What is it?" asked Tah'rh as she moved closer to the front.

"A fight has broken out in Sunless Harbour and is quickly escalating," explained Tseng grimly, "it's the Setarip and Sajnin gangs. Cissnei and the others are doing what they can to stop the fighting and control the damage, but it appears to be very serious this time."

"Blood and fire!" cursed the Archdaemon, "Can I not look away for 5 minutes before somebody gets on somebody else's ass!"

"Your orders, Boss?" Reno looked back at her, his hands poised over the controls.

The Archdaemon bit her lip in thought, "Even flying the Currents may be too slow, we'll have to take a vortex."

Her eyes started to turn gold again and her slitted pupils expanded to ellipses as she scanned the horizon.

"There, we'll take that one." she pointed.

Reno nodded and began steering the aircraft into the direction indicated. The coloured lights on the rotor blades dissipated.

Sephiroth searched where the Archdaemon had pointed, but there seemed to be nothing but the sky and the sea there. He squinted his eyes, and suddenly a flicker in the air darted in and out of his vision. He blinked and looked again. There, it's clearer now: a mass of what looked like the churning air that rose from hot surfaces on summer days. And the more he looked, the clearer it becomes to him. In fact, it was becoming less and less transparent and was starting to turn a peculiar shade of...blue? Sephiroth blinked again and looked in other directions. Now that he'd seen one, more and more were appearing to his eyes. There were quite a few of them—of different sizes and shapes—floating in the air all over the place around the sea port. The one they were heading for was one of the largest, and was circular in shape. Reno slowed the aircraft to a hover before it. The Archdaemon opened the cabin door and leaned out. She took off the string of beads that she wore around her neck, ran her thumb over one of her canines to break the skin and then smeared the droplets of blood onto the beads. Vincent and Sephiroth recognized that a lot of the other demon lords that they'd seen in the slave market had carried similar beads. The Archdaemon then tossed the beads at the bluish, churning air, and spoke a word that Chaos recognized as something that means "open" for doorways. Immediately, the beads began to gather the bluish swirls about them, and then expanded and stretched them out to become what looked like a flat bluish mirror that floated in the middle of the sky.

Reno flew the aircraft straight into the "mirror", and Sephiroth's stomach rolled with an oddly familiar sensation. Liquid energy wrapped around the aircraft, and Sephiroth and Vincent suddenly found the aircraft being rushed through what felt like a tunnel of fast-moving water. There were coloured lights all around them, rushing about, swirling and bumping into each other and the aircraft, pulling and pushing the aircraft this way and that. A cheeky grin appeared on Reno's face as he glanced at his passengers mischievously and dramatically adjusted his grip on the aircraft's levers—Sephiroth assumed they were somewhat akin to the cyclic and collective controls of the helicopters of his world—and the aircraft took off in a wild dance, swerving and rolling along with the chaotic flow of the coloured lights. The Archdaemon gave a joyful whoop while Tseng simply sighed. It's a good thing that both he and Vincent seemed to be immune to air-sickness, Sephiroth supposed. And interestingly enough, this didn't feel much different from the few times he had had to spend in human-Reno's chopper back when he was still ShinRa's Silver General.

When the lights finally unwrapped themselves from the aircraft, the scenery around them, the colour of the sky and the sea, the smell of the air, etc., were decidedly different from what they were just moments ago. And instead of heading away from the harbour of a bustling market city, they were now heading towards a heavily industrialized coast. The smoke from what looked like factories choked the sky, and the sun was nowhere to be seen.

The ships here were even bigger than the ones Sephiroth and Vincent had seen in Junon. Many of them carried giant crates, and some of them were equipped with cranes. Right now, those ships were being shepherded further into the sea, away from the harbour by tugboats and helicopter-like aircrafts similar to the one Sephiroth and Vincent were currently flying in. More aircrafts hovered about further inland from the coast, and occasionally, flashes of fire and lightning appeared from between the buildings and cranes and piles of containers and unfamiliar-looking goods. This must be Sunless Harbour.

Behind them, the bluish "mirror", looking exactly as it did back in Junon with the same beads acting as its border, hung silently in the sky. With a word from the Archdaemon that Chaos recognized to be something that meant both "return" and "power-down", the beads disengaged from the bluish energy and flew back to its master. Just as the Archdaemon looped the beads back around her neck and turned to look upon the harbour, a fireball flew out and crashed into a crate hanging from one of the harbour cranes, evidently having been left there in a hurry when the fighting broke out. The crate jerked on the chain it hung from as it burst into flames; its contents obviously did not like the heat and vibrations, as it exploded out as hundreds of pieces of shrapnel. One particularly large piece punctured into a huge canister. Clear liquid then gushed from the wound and ran into a large pile of yellowish powder, which then burst into flames. The flames, carried on the clear liquid, quickly spread to other piles of various materials, which included a pile of innocent-looking crates, which then exploded in spectacular noise and smoke. Within seconds, much of the harbour was either burning, exploding, breaking, or all of the above.

For a moment, Tah'rh, Reno, and Tseng simply gaped silently at the destruction. The fighting in the harbour too, seemed to have quieted. Then slowly, almost apprehensively, Reno and Tseng turned to their sovereign. But the Archdaemon was lost in her own world.

"6 cranes at 50 to 300 Jin per crane plus 15 tuns of ruphur times 476 Jin per tun plus 230 shun of perosene times 142 Jin per shun plus..." face slack and eyes unfocused, she continued this litany as harbour cranes keeled over with loud metallic groans, and more and more things around the harbour fell victim to chains of explosions.

"Umm...Boss...?" Reno asked carefully.

The rioters down in the harbour didn't seem to share the Archdaemon's concerns however. A streak of lightning shot out, and the fighting re-ignited. The Archdaemon snapped out of her stupor and growled deep and low in her chest. Her eyes were almost completely gold and her pupils were narrowed into thin slits. An enormous amount of energy began to swell and crack around her.

"Tell Cissnei and the others to get out of range. I'm going down there." she said from between her clenched canines before leaping out of the aircraft. White energy completely enveloping her petite frame as she shot towards the harbour in a speed that Sephiroth himself had never attempted. The ground trembled at her landing, and the white light expanded and burst to reveal a _huge_ white tiger-lion creature with dark-red markings that towered over the buildings. Helicopter-like aircrafts frantically scrambled away from the growling creature. Even Reno back-peddled a little.

"You might want to plug your ears." warned the red-head.

And sure enough, the white tiger let out a ground-shaking roar soon after. Sephiroth clenched his teeth against the sound. Even at this distance, it reverberated right through him and sat every hair on end. A high-pitched, scream-like sound layered within the roar threatened to pull the air from his lungs and set his skull on fire. Beside him, the ex-Turk sat rigid with his hands clenched into bloodless knuckles. His pupils were constricted into pin-pricks as the crimson irises flashed wildly with flecks of gold.

Reno and Tseng sat with their jaws tight and their brows tightly furrowed, and Reno's knuckles were white on the aircraft's controls. Nonetheless, their aircraft hovered steadily in the air. Some of the other "helicopters" around the harbour faltered, but quickly righted themselves as if every one of them had been well-versed in the Archdaemon's violent tactics.

But the Archdaemon was not done yet. A large ring of red flashed briefly before a huge pillar of red light rose into the sky and enveloped the entire harbour. Screams of agony filled the air along with the roar of fire and the occasional explosion, which seemed to be sucked in by the Archdaemon to fuel the intensity of the spell. It was not long before all went quiet in the harbour. The fires and explosions were gone, as were any signs of movement except for the huge white form of the Archdaemon herself and the spinning rotors of the aircrafts.

* * *

**More Author's Notes: **Was _very_ tempted to put "Pirates and Ninjas" as the two fighting gangs, but thought that might be a bit too distracting lol. So, Setarip and Sajnin it is :P


	13. Chapter 12: Financial Woes

**Author's Notes:** I'd like to extend a warm "welcome back!" to fetherhd, who's possibly one of the most skilled word-smiths I have ever seen. It was her story "The Orphans of Cerberus" that sent my imagination on a wild spin that demanded to be released from the confines of my skull, and sparked my courage and will to dare post a little something of my own on this site. Unfortunately, she's been appearing and disappearing from this site lately because there are people who tell her that writing fanfiction is a waste of time *le gasp!* and that she should be focusing her energies on more useful endeavors. Fortunately she's now back and re-posting her wonderful stories, and if you have the time and…err…not too young, which if you're reading this story then I'm trusting that you are not… I strongly encourage you to check out her fics and her impressive collection of artworks and original fiction.

Fanfiction truly is something that appears daunting at times, but the community is also absolutely wonderful. Those of you who have been generously giving me your encouragement and support all these months—the insane, the nightmarish, the anonymous...all of you... and everybody else whose names I can't come up with a horrible pun for—I appreciate it very very much *hugs*

And if any of the other awesome authors whose works I look to for inspiration reads this: I'm sorry I haven't been able to keep up with your updates lately, I've just been so darn busy. But I'm still keeping an active watch and I swear I'll catch up on your fics :D And please don't stop writing!

**Warnings: **strong language

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Chapter 12 - Financial Woes

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"Alright Nami, hit me." said the Archdaemon, her elbows propped on her desk and her hands pressed together and against her lips.

"Twenty-one thousand and five hundred Jin. And that's just to get the harbour to minimum working order. Not including the amount for the damaged and destroyed goods." replied the ginger-haired young woman with large, intelligent, dark-brown eyes. Sephiroth guessed that she must be some kind of finance minister.

Tah'rh remained very still for a very long time. Sephiroth glanced about in mild annoyance. Since nobody had had the time in all this commotion to see to him and Vincent, they were simply dragged along where ever the Archdaemon went. So now here they were, in the capital city of the 7th Circle, in the Archdaemon's palace and in the Archdaemon's office, standing around like idiots while the highest officials of the Circle discussed important state matters that he was pretty sure slaves weren't meant to hear. Presently nobody paid them any mind, but that doesn't mean things won't go badly when somebody finally does notice the new slaves in the Archdaemon's office. Sephiroth glanced to his side. As always, the ex-Turk seemed to be taking everything with an admirable calm acceptance. Sephiroth had to admit, he was not unhappy that Vincent was here with him.

"Fuck." the Archdaemon finally said. She took a deep breath before continuing, "Blood and fire... We've _just_ had to dip into the Circle's reserves to repair the Central Bridge. How are we going make that kind of money to get the harbour to working condition in time for the opening of the summer vortices... But if we don't get the exports out, we'll NEVER be able to haul our asses out of the red."

"We can take out a loan from the other Circles." suggested Tseng gently.

"No..." the Archdaemon slowly rubbed her forehead, "we've already been borrowing too much from them. You said yourself that taking out loans from other Circles too often will give them an impression of weakness. Those vultures will pick on us, or worse."

"We have...never taken out a loan from the 4th Circle." suggested Nami reluctantly.

"Absolutely not." the Archdaemon glared from behind her hand, "That old man's money is waaay too dirty—even by Hell's standards. I'm not touching that stuff."

They all fell silent after that, none of them able to think of a better solution.

The Archdaemon sighed, "Well what about the other statistics? How many injured, how many killed, how are the hospitals doing, etcetera."

"Those numbers are still coming in, but the hospitals are packed. Most of the injured seem to be those gang members who were involved in the riot..."

"And they have the _gall_ to be sitting in there, using up _my_ resources to care for the injuries they've acquired while destroying _my_ harbour?" the Archdaemon growled, "_They_ should be the ones paying for the damages! In fact, Nami, write this down: as right now, anybody who gets themselves injured from destroying Circle property will be charged a Property Damage Tax of three times of whatever their hospital bills are!"

"But Tah'rh, the majority of those gang members are sailors and dock-workers, they don't have that kind of money!" argued Nami.

"Then put them on a fucking payment plan!" the Archdaemon seethed, "What were they fighting about anyways? Somebody showed up at a party in the same outfit as somebody else?"

"From what we currently understand," answered Tseng, "is that a young man from Setarip and a young woman from Sajnin took a liking to each other. They attempted to elope and failed, and the two gangs blamed each other for the affair."

"WHAT! They went into a riot for _that_? This is fucking 7th Circle of Hell! Not some worm-eaten Broadway musical! Can't they at least have the decency to destroy my harbour for something more...demonic? Like loosing the inter-Circle team-disket championships at the seventh game of the finals like they did fucking _last_ worm-begotten _YEAR_?!" the Archdaemon practically jumped out of her chair in explosive rage.

A vase near her desk cracked before bursting into flames. Tseng calmly waved a hand over it to quell the flames, then smoothly tossed it into the trash.

The Archdaemon sighed and dropped back into her chair, rested her head on its back and stared into the ceiling.

"We'll figure something out, Archdaemon." said Tseng quietly, sounding very much like someone who didn't truly believe his own words, but was determined to make those words true.

"Call me that again and I'll bloody rip your face off." said Tah'rh in a dry monotone. One corner of Tseng's lips quirked up a little at that.

Suddenly, the Archdaemon rocked forward in her chair and shouted joyfully at the door, "Well, if you're here, why skulk around like that? Come in already!" The door to the office swung open on its own accord as if responding to its sovereign's will.

Both Sephiroth and Vincent tensed when a head of silver hair and a pair of dark blue eyes poked in from the doorway. Neither of them had sensed this person's presence..._at all_. That had never happened at this close a distance before, not even with the other demons.

Inside Vincent's mind, his demons gave a low, uneasy growl.

"I heard there's been some massive property damage going on...again... I thought it might be safer for me to stay out here for a while." smiled the silver-haired young man.

Tah'rh snorted as Nami snickered.

"Plus...Cissnei caught me on the way here, and asked me to help her bring _this_ here..." the young man took a step so that his entire body was now visible from the doorway, and between his arms was a tall stack of various papers and reports.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me! There had _better_ be some 100 Jin bills in there somewhere." groaned the Archdaemon.

The young man chuckled as he strode to the Archdaemon's desk and deposited the stack of papers. Then he and the Archdaemon clasped their hands and pulled each other into a warm hug, their tails raising in genuine pleasure.

"It's good to see you again, sis."

Sephiroth watched in curiosity. It was easy to see the family resemblance between the two. In fact, this young man could have been the Archdaemon's double, only in a different gender, different colouration, dressed in all black instead of all white, and a gentler demeanor. And like the Archdaemon, he was also bare-footed.

"Good to see you too, Fah'yn." smiled the Archdaemon, "How's work? All's going well I hope?"

"Oh you know, same old same old. I see that the same can be said for the 7th."

Tah'rh humphed good-humouredly and rolled her eyes. Fah'yn then greeted Tseng and Nami with equal warmness.

"Where's Reno?" asked Fah'yn.

"He's still at Sunless Harbour, overseeing the clean-up." answered Tseng.

"Ah...that's too bad..." Fah'yn's tail drooped a little.

Nami hid a smirk behind her hand.

"And these two quiet fellows here, are they your new slaves, sis?" Fah'yn turned to Vincent and Sephiroth.

"Yep. So, what do you think?"

"They're _beautiful_..." Fah'yn stared at the two men with wide eyes. He leaned closer—his blue eyes turning silver from the center—and sniffed. Sephiroth frowned in irritation, Fah'yn then blinked and drew back.

"I'm sorry, that was very rude of me. It's a bad habit from my job, you see," apologized the young man, "let me properly introduce myself. I'm Fah'yn, Warden of Hades and twin of your rather temperamental master here. May I know your names?"

Sephiroth studied the young man carefully. It seemed that his offer of goodwill was sincere enough. And as a slave, he wasn't sure if he really had a choice about whether or not to give his name.

"Sephiroth."

"Vincent. Vincent Valentine."

Fah'yn repeated their names to himself a few times as if to memorize their shaping, then smiled warmly, "It's very nice to meet you, Sephiroth and Vincent Valentine."

"Amazing, aren't they? Almost look and smell exactly like true hybrids," said the Archdaemon as she came up to them, "had I been someone else, I might not have been able to tell the difference."

Fah'yn nodded thoughtfully, "To have modified a human to be this close to a hybrid...the things they must have had to do..."

The Archdaemon snorted derisively, "Just like _humans_ to be willing to go this far. I don't even _want_ to know how many demons they've forced into this one here. And that one, modified since his time in the womb! And I thought the care that human mothers are reputed to give their offsprings was the _one_ redeeming factor for the species. Not even Wasteland vultures would toss their own chicks to the hounds!"

Sephiroth's pupils constricted at that, but to his surprise, it was Vincent who growled at the Archdaemon, his red eyes practically glowing.

"Do NOT speak of things of which you know nothing, demoness! His mother was not... You have _no_ idea of the circumstances..."

"Oh really? Did your so-called 'scientists' or 'doctors' or whatever drag his mother kicking and screaming to the examination table? Chained her down? Locked her up? For all the months this needed to be done? Risking a miscarriage from the combined stress of _that_ plus the physical stress of introducing foreign genetic material into the womb? Were there _no_ personal gain of any kind for her? For participating in the modification of her unborn child?" the Archdaemon sneered at the angry ex-Turk.

Vincent's eyes truly glowed now, but he clenched his jaw and didn't refute her. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but then he suddenly noticed Sephiroth's mako eyes on him and quickly darted his own crimson orbs away.

"Um, sis," Fah'yn cleared his throat, "you look like you have a whole lot of things to take care of, and these two must be tired and hungry from following you around all day. Why don't I help you take them to their quarters and get them settled in?"

Tah'rh eyed the large stack of reports on her desk, "Ah, yes, that's a good idea. You know more about keeping humans alive than I do anyways. I've prepared some rooms for them at the west end. It's the one with the red door."

Fah'yn nodded and ushered the two men into the palace's maze-like hallways.

—

"Sorry about that," said Fah'yn gently once they were alone in the winding hallways of the Archdaemon's palace, "Tah'rh sometimes say things without thinking. She wasn't purposely trying to insult your loved ones."

Vincent tried to look anywhere but into Sephiroth's intense mako gaze, and tried to change the subject, "Why do you feel the need to apologize? She is the Archdaemon, and we are only her slaves."

"But you're not _my_ slaves. There's nothing wrong with _me_ apologizing to you, is there?"

"..."

Fah'yn chucked lightly, "And you don't need to worry so much about your status. Tah'rh really doesn't care what anyone does as long as they don't break something expensive. If anyone here tries to bully you, just fight them back as much as you need. You don't need to hold anything back. That's what demons do really, challenge each other, test each other for weaknesses. If you show them that you are strong and stand your ground, then they'll back off. Oh, and if anyone tries to make any sexual advances, you can just accept if you want to, or refuse if you like. Contrary to human lore, demons actually prefer their partners to be willing..."

_See? What have we been trying to tell you?_ Scoffed Chaos.

"...Although...some of them have rather vague definitions of 'willing'... And some of them have the power to force you to _become_ willing..."

Vincent gave his demons a pointed mental glare.

"...But I'm sure you'll be fine. I trust that my sister had made a careful choice despite all her belly-aching."

"Ah, I think this is it." Fah'yn stopped in front of a red door. All three pairs of eyes widened as they entered. The room was choked full with a wild assortment of various objects: there was a pile of pillows, a big round rock, a giant lamp, a large tank of water, a pile of gravel, a tub of sand, a few bales of hay, a bowl of bones, a scratching-post, and what looked like a giant hamster wheel, among other, smaller objects. And from where Vincent was standing, it looked like the adjacent room was filled with tires, logs and nets and resembled the enclosures of gorillas and monkeys he'd seen in zoos.

Fah'yn rubbed his forehead. "That sister of mine... Hold on a second..." His blue eyes went distant and unfocused for a few moments.

"There are some more rooms close by that are more suitable. Please come with me."

The young man led them down some more hallways before stopping at a white door, "See if this one is more to your liking."

Vincent and Sephiroth slowly entered what looked like a modest, cozy one-bedroom suite, complete with living-room, kitchen, toilet, and bath and shower. Large glass doors let in the sunlight from one side of the living-room, and opens to a comfortable-looking porch, which then leads to a small garden, then an impressive, dense forest.

"Is this...usual for slaves?" asked Vincent, showing an expression of surprise that Sephiroth rarely got to see on the stoic gunman.

"No, not really." answered Fah'yn, "The previous Archdaemons of the 7th had a building that was specifically built for housing slaves, but since sis had banned slaves from the Circle, and didn't see herself ever getting any, she converted it into something more...err...'economically viable'. A casino I think it was. Even with you here, she didn't think it was worth the investment to build another slave house, and the Archdaemon's palace has plenty of unused guest rooms anyways, so she figured she'll just give you one of those. So, do you like it?"

"It's...very nice..." said Vincent carefully, unsure of what else he should say. This Archdaemon might be a little...eccentric...but he still wasn't sure if he could really refuse anything she or her brother chose for him. And besides, this was already far beyond his expectations. Sephiroth simply nodded curtly as he continued to study the rooms around him.

"Hmm...it's a little sparsely furnished though... This one hasn't been used in a very long time. We'll probably have to bring in a few more chairs and tables...maybe some rocking chairs for the porch... The kitchen needs some more work too... We'll probably be needing some extra bedding and pillows for the bedroom... And you'll probably need some more toiletries..." Fah'yn mumbled to himself as he walked around the rooms, his tail tapping thoughtfully behind him.

Vincent turned to the silver-haired young man from his own inspections and found a pile of pillows—the same pile that had been in the first room—mysteriously lying in one corner of the sparsely-furnished bedroom. The ex-Turk narrowed his eyes at them. His memory had always been exceptional, and he was certain that those pillows had not been there just a moment ago.

"...But that can come a bit later. The essentials are all here. I'll go and see if I can find you two something to eat. Why don't you look around in the meantime and tell me if there are any specific furnishings or other things you'll need."

"Is that...really alright?" asked Vincent uncertainly.

"Of course!" Fah'yn gave the ex-Turk a wide, disarming smile, "My sister might be a bit of a miser, but she'll spend the money if you can give her good reasons to do so. If you need anything, just tell me, and I'll talk to her for you." With that, he left the room in search of some food for his sister's new slaves.

Now alone in the room with Sephiroth, Vincent pretended the best he could that he did not feel the heat of the former general's mako gaze descending upon his back like the rays of a desert sun, even though he knew very well the futility.

"Vincent, just then, what you said...you knew my mother? You saw what they did..."

"No...I..." the ex-Turk refused to meet the former general's gaze and instinctively began to draw away.

"VALENTINE!" bellowed Sephiroth as he reached forward to stop the ex-Turk, desperate and near bursting from hope and frustration. Sixty. The pale gunman had said he was sixty. That meant he had already been a grown man at the time of Sephiroth's birth. Twenty-seven. He'd have been twenty-seven then. Age enough, experienced enough, to perhaps have been in the first division of the Turks, maybe even 1st or 2nd in command. He knew things. He _had_ to know things. He had pretty much admitted it in his outburst to the Archdaemon.

Vincent caught Sephiroth's hand shooting towards him from the corner of his eye, and his body instantly moved in reflex. He slapped away the reaching hand and swung his elbow right into the ex-general's face.

Sephiroth staggered back a few steps and eyed the ex-Turk's fully battle-ready defensive stance. The stinging from his jaw and cheek not nearly as bad as the strange constricting sensations in his chest at the ex-Turk's defensiveness. Roaring in frustration and other, unknown emotions, he charged into Vincent, knocking them both hard against the wall.

Vincent immediately retaliated, bringing all his Turk ruthlessness and his savage demon claws into play. Sephiroth reacted in kind with his own warrior's ferocity, and the two of them tumbled across the room, crashing into what few furnitures there were in the area, before Sephiroth finally succeeded in pinning the ex-Turk to the ground, his arms wrapped tightly around Vincent's head and left shoulder. The former general pressed his own left shoulder downwards to squeeze the arm with the dangerous demonic claw against the ex-Turk's neck and away from the former general's body, and also to try to weaken the struggling ex-Turk by constricting his air supply. Vincent continued to struggle violently, but with his legs and claw angled uselessly away from his opponent's body and his human hand ineffective against the battle-hardened warrior, he could not throw off Sephiroth's greater weight no matter how hard he tried. The gunman's eyes began to flicker gold.

Smarting from more than a few claw marks and bruises, and guessing himself to look no better than a beggar with what was left of his make-shift clothing, Sephiroth took a deep breath as he prepared to yell his frustration out at the impossible man under him, beyond caring that it would be a most unusual display from his usually cold and stoic self. He stopped short however, when he caught the scent of...something... It was coming from Vincent, and it smelled...good. Sephiroth turned his nose a little closer to the pale ex-Turk, silver brows furrowed as he tried to investigate this strange, faint smell.

"BLOOD AND FIRE! What the FUCK did I _JUST_ say about property damage!" the door smacked against the wall as the Archdaemon came charging in.

Still tangled on the floor, the two men turned to her in surprise, and she suddenly stopped in her tracks.

Fah'yn came running in right then, juggling what looked and smelled like a pot of tea in his left hand and some kind of squealing boar under his right arm, and he also stopped dead in his tracks...when he came upon the frozen frame of his twin and a certain...glint in her eyes.

"Um... Sis...?"

"Say, Fah'yn, you've been out and about before you got here. Tell me, how are people reacting to the news of me purchasing slaves?" asked Tah'rh, her eyes unmoving from said slaves.

The silver-haired young man's brows furrowed, "They're quite surprised and gossiping about it quite vigorously. ...As we all already knew they would."

"But how fast and widely has the news travelled?"

"As fast as always. Even the Spirit Realm's now talking about it. ...Why?"

"I just had a GREAT idea to make us some good, fast cash." Tah'rh said as a wide, ominous grin began to spread across her face, her dark eyes never leaving the tangled forms of her new slaves.

Fah'yn looked worriedly between his sister and the two unfortunate souls on the floor. That grin had _never_ meant well for the subjects of her money-making schemes.

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**Disclaimer:** Nami of the manga and anime series "One Piece" belongs to Eiichiro Oda. I'm only borrowing her and make no profit from her. The only characters in this chapter that are my own creations are Tah'rh and Fah'yn.


	14. Chapter 13: Fast Cash

**Author's Notes:** Once again, thank you all for your reviews =) Sorry for the long wait, work had been _insane_ for the past few months. But since now that things have slowed down a bit and I seem to still have all my marbles (I think), here is the newest chapter~ ^^

**Warnings:** Violence, blood

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Chapter 13 - Fast Cash

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"I call it: The Duel and Screw." Tah'rh announced proudly.

Tseng and Fah'yn exchanged knowing, exasperated looks.

The Archdaemon sure could move fast when she had fast cash in her sights, mused Sephiroth. She somehow threw together a large spectator event, which involved advertising, ticket sales, planning for security and accommodation for the influx of thousands of visitors, utilities, condiments, equipment, staff, volunteers, etc etc., in just two day's time, and tossed her two slaves into a fully set-up, fully seated stadium, fully expecting them to...'Duel and Screw' right on the spot.

Well, almost. She did take them to the backstage first to explain what was expected of them. Though Sephiroth strongly suspected that she would have skipped this step altogether and just dropped the two hapless men straight into the arena if Tseng or Fah'yn weren't there to reminded her that perhaps the two stars of her show needed a little bit more preparation.

The former general looked over the assortment of weapons displayed before him. Dueling with Vincent wasn't something that Sephiroth entirely disagreed with. In fact, the warrior side of him was quite excited at the prospect of finally having a good fight after so long of being bound and caged. And Valentine looked to be a skilled opponent who won't disappoint. It was the second part, however...

"I won't do it." said Vincent simply, his crimson eyes flashing in a rare display of rage.

"Why not? Are you so certain that he will completely outmatch you and pound your pale ass into the ground? Pardon the pun." asked the Archdaemon slyly, "I don't think you have reason to worry so much. After all, you did quite well against him when you two were happily destroying my palace."

He and Vincent didn't really do that much damage in that...quarrel they had—a few chipped wooden furniture at most—but Sephiroth doubt that the Archdaemon will deign to hear the argument.

"But if you _really_ don't want to do this with _each other_, that's fine. I guess I could get some of those lazy asses milling about in the dungeons to be your partners instead. Or maybe even some of those beasts in the back there. In fact, that might be a better idea, some of the chimeras are in heat and are a bit restless and destructive of late...and there _is_ the certain risque, crowd-pleasing aspect of bestiali-"

"Fine." Vincent nearly spat from between his teeth, "Fine." He dramatically turned his back on the Archdaemon, seething. Sephiroth blinked, he was sure that there was a tattered cape that swirled and billowed around the ex-Turk at the dramatic turn, though Vincent was wearing only a simple ensemble of black buttoned shirt and black pants.

"How can you be so sure that we won't kill one another..." or someone else, thought Sephiroth to himself, "...while battling?" The...'swords'...that they were presented with were little more than heavy, toy-like cylinders with buttons on them. That is, until the buttons were pressed. Then blades of light shot out from the cylinders (which turned out to be the 'hilts' of the 'swords'), making quick work of the wood blocks they were provided with, and making strange humming noises when swung. The 'guns' that Vincent was looking over were strange and toy-like too, and they made odd 'pew pew' noises when they fired. The streaks of light that they fire out however, also prove that they were no mere toys.

"If you do manage that, then that's fine by me. One less mouth to feed."

Tseng aimed a pointed glare at his sovereign.

"...But, for now, we do need you to be in one piece to put on a good show before the other Archdaemons, so you'll each be shadowed by a referee," the Archdaemon gestured to two large spheres resting on the floor beside them. The spheres were about as wide as a person is tall. Inside they were hollow, and had room enough for one person, a comfortable-looking seat, and what looked like controls for an aircraft.

"The referees will cast a shielding spell on their respective charges. It will prevent most types of injuries from being lethal, but will not prevent the injuries themselves," explained the Archdaemon, "and if they judge it necessary, the referees can strengthen the spell into a hard shell. Has the added effect of encasing and immobilizing the person it's cast on. Quite neat, not to mention useful..."

So...that spell somehow prevents them from being able to kill each other, but not from inflicting damage upon each other? So he can go at the stubborn, thick-headed, _impossible_ TURK without having to hold back? Sephiroth glanced at the long, thin, still-visible welts on his forearm left by a certain someone's demonic claws. He had to admit, he liked the idea.

"...And if one person is deemed in need of the hardened shield, then the other is considered the winner of the match. You're quite lucky. For your first match, you'll have Fah'yn volunteering to be one of the referees. He probably knows more about how to keep humans alive than anyone in the Circle, so it's now less likely...err...more unlikely than usual that you'll be dying here."

"Sis..." Fah'yn sighed, "this idea of yours, its..."

But Tah'rh had already turned around to the heavy curtains to peer out at the rows upon rows of spectators in their seats outside, "Isn't this awesome? Just look at this crowd! Just _think_ of how much we'll make on concession sales alone! Maybe we'll even get some decent largesse! ...And will you look at that, we even have some _angels_ coming down from their high-horses and sneaking in here to watch."

Fah'yn sighed again and shrugged at Sephiroth and Vincent apologetically, "I'm truly sorry about this, it's really impossible to argue with her with this much money on the line. So many people..." Fah'yn's tail tapped steadily just above the ground as he paused in thought, "if every one of them just give one Yem of largesse then..." the young man cocked his head innocently as his dark blue eyes casually glanced at the sudden twitch in his sister's pointy ears, "and if they all give two Yem then that'll be..." Tah'rh's lips began to move in silent, mumbled calculations, "Ah, but not everyone's so generous with their largesse. You'll have my full understanding and sympathies if you two plan on doing just the minimum required and getting this ridiculousness over with as quickly as possible. Being forced to do this must already be very hard on you, and demon spectators can be so very demanding with their entertainment. And considering who your master is, you two will likely never see any of the profits anyways, what incentive could you possibly have to prolong your suffering. Ah, but I _have_ heard that last year's production of "Kingdom Hearts" went over so well with the audiences that they earned over 1000 Jin in largesse alone."

Tah'rh whipped around to face her slaves with such an intense glint in her eyes that all the men in the room involuntarily took a step back, "You two, if you put on a good show and earn me some good largesse, then I might become so busy rolling in money that I'll forget to station guards around the Central Library, especially around the 6th floor, where Aether Current charts and Axis maps and other important documents are kept."

"Tah'rh!" protested Tseng, his eyes wide. Tah'rh promptly stuck a report in front of his face.

"If you can think of another way to make this kind of money in just one day, I'd love to hear it."

"This..." Tseng stared at the report, "if we can make...then we can start on the re-construction of the harbour right away..."

Vincent cast a long look at the serenely standing Fah'yn, then narrowed his crimson eyes at the excited Archdaemon, "...You will keep your word?"

"Of course," Tah'rh pushed her fists into her hips, striking a pose that once again resembled one of Yuffie's, and spoke in a tone that was a clear parody of Tseng's, "An Archdaemon's words are _never_ spoken in jest."

One of Tseng's brows twitched from behind the report, the veins about his temples seeming to enlarge somewhat. Fah'yn coughed in a poor attempt to hide his amusement and then quickly found something very interesting to look at in the opposite direction of Tseng's vicious glare.

"And what exactly will you consider a 'good' largesse?" asked Sephiroth slowly.

"The equivalent of 5 Yem from every spectator in the stadium. You'll have to take my word that it's not an impossible sum." replied Tah'rh, and neither Fah'yn nor Tseng voiced any protest, "So, do we have an understanding?"

Vincent and Sephiroth glanced at each other more than a little uncomfortably, then gingerly...VERY gingerly...nodded. They'll be forced into this whether they like it or not, bargain or no. Whatever games the demons played, they will have to play along, for now.

"Great!" said Tah'rh as she peeked out one more time from the curtains, "The audience look like they're all settled too! Tseng, how are things going on Reno's end?"

"Reno reports that all outside traffic have settled and the premises are secure," said Tseng, PHS in hand, "shall we head to the box seats, _Archdaemon_?"

Tah'rh tossed a snort at her First Councilor at the small revenge, then turned to her slaves.

"May the Force be with you." Tah'rh waved at the two men with a wide, sly grin, then turned and followed Tseng out to the stairway.

...

Sephiroth watched in fascination as Fah'yn and the other referee cast the shielding spell upon their respective charges. Apparently the spell was quite complex by the amount of concentration it required from its caster, though the casting itself looked pretty simple. The silver haired young man's lips moved in a whispered incantation in time with his index finger as he traced an abstract pattern onto Vincent's chest. The touch from the referees' fingers were light and emotionless, strictly for the purpose of spell-casting. Still, a subtle air of tension settled over the ex-Turk at the contact—a tension that Sephiroth knew all too well. The former general doubted that either referee noticed though, so deep were they in concentration.

By Gaia, if it was this bad just with this simple, superficial touch, how were they supposed to carry out the level of intimacy that the Archdaemon demanded of them later on? Sephiroth's brows furrowed uneasily. Mako green eyes glanced over at the ex-Turk. Well, he will just have to make sure that the winner of this match will be none other than himself, the former general decided. Loosing, and having to lie still and allow someone else to touch him how ever they wished...it was unthinkable.

A strand of light followed in the referees' index fingers' wake. Once completed, the abstract pattern brightened momentarily, then settled to a dim, unobtrusive glow over the two fighters' hearts. Sephiroth felt a slight hum of power hovering over every inch of his skin, feeling very much like the faintest of breezes wafting over him and all around him. Fah'yn smiled at the two fighters reassuringly, then donned one of the large helmets that the other referee had already had over his head. The helmets looked a lot like the ones that ShinRa infantrymen wore. Sephiroth had always disliked those helmets, finding them to be large and cumbersome, and they covered too much of the wearer's face. It was almost an open invitation for ShinRa's enemies to disguise themselves under one of those helmets and infiltrate ShinRa's defenses. But the referees' helmets seemed to serve a viable function. When the referees entered the large spheres and powered them up, the spheres' surfaces wavered and disappeared from sight. Sephiroth guessed that this served the dual purpose of avoiding blocking the spectator's views, and preventing retaliation and escape from the combatants the referees watched over. The helmets must have allowed the referees to see each other's spheres while they remained invisible to everyone else.

Before the spheres fully disappeared however, pale blue lights shot out from them and formed into the shape of a cage around each fighter. The spheres then floated into the air and carried their charges through the large curtains, into the large open stadium.

The crowd roared in excitement and then chittered in appreciation as Vincent and Sephiroth were brought out. The spheres hovered around for a bit as if picking a good spot to drop their charges, and then they did exactly that. The pale blue cages suddenly disappeared, and their prisoners unceremoniously dropped into the arena below.

Both Vincent and Sephiroth landed gracefully onto the dirt ground, their backs to each other. Vincent wasted no time in whirling around, guns blazing from both hands as he fired in rapid succession, straight at the most vulnerable areas of the silver general's body. Sephiroth didn't miss a beat either. He too quickly turned around and blocked all of Vincent's shots with his blade of light. The 'bullets' of light hit the 'blade' hard and disintegrated into showers of sparks. The force of the impacts sent strong vibrations through the swordsman's arms and wrists. Vincent kept up his assault mercilessly, and the blade of light danced before the former general, blocking shot after shot.

Blocking the shots was taking more energy out of the former general than the ex-Turk firing the shots, and Sephiroth knew it wasn't wise to stay on the defensive like this. He tried evading Vincent's shots by swiftly dashing to the sides, but the agile gunman matched him step by step, not for a moment relinquishing his control over the spacing between them.

Breaking the ex-Turk's assault would require some careful maneuvering. Having an actual metal blade would be easier for what Sephiroth had in mind, but as luck would have it, the 'hilt' of the odd light-sword had a decent sized piece of metal on it. Carefully moving into position while blocking Vincent's shots, Sephiroth hissed quietly as several 'bullets' grazed his skin. But he had succeeded in getting both of them in the right place without Vincent noticing his plans. The former general blocked another one of Vincent's shots, reversed his blade and brought it up in impossible speed, angling the hilt so that the sun reflected off the metal piece and shone straight into the ex-Turk's crimson eyes. Vincent blinked and flinched in reflex, but recovered much quicker than the former general would have liked. The ex-Turk's guns stayed up, muzzles still aimed at their target, and only a slight pause interrupted their insistent barrage. Sephiroth knew better than to try to move away. Any sound he made would have had the temporarily blinded but far from disabled ex-Turk instantly honing in on his position. But the slight pause in Vincent's attacks gave the swordsman just enough time to adjust his swings to do more than defend. An arc of compressed air soared towards the ex-Turk and met the on coming 'bullets' head-on. Both forces disintegrated on impact, creating a mini-explosion of light and sound.

Vincent blinked as the dots in his vision cleared, all his senses sharp and alert as he scanned his surroundings, expecting the former general to use the cover of the mini-explosion to sneak up on him. But Sephiroth never moved. Instead he used the precious time bought to him to cast his signature Shadow Flare. Four spheres of dark energy materialized around Vincent, then converged on their target like hellhounds rushing to their prey. But they were too slow; Vincent easily dodged them by leaping into the air.

Sephiroth had expected as much; he was not planning on catching the nimble gunman with Shadow Flare. It was just a diversion to buy him time as he dashed towards his opponent. Seeing the ex-Turk leap into the air, the swordsman kicked his powerful legs into the ground and launched himself at his free-falling opponent, his blade poised to make a full, lethal swing. Twin guns however, instantly trained onto the swordsman even as both their wielder and their target travelled through the air, and bullets of light unerringly sped towards Sephiroth's heart.

Sephiroth always had been impressed with this ability of Vincent's to shoot down his targets even in the middle of leaps and somersaults—had always found the ex-Turk beautiful when he watched him sail through the air like a black-and-crimson spectre, raining death upon his opponents with the accuracy of a true grim reaper. But that did not mean being on the receiving end of it was fun. Sephiroth was forced to adjust his swing to a less powerful one in order to be fast enough to block the on-coming bullets, and he did not get nearly as close to the gunman as he wanted. But the time and opening he had earned for himself was good enough. Subsequent arcs of compressed air had the power to not only block Vincent's 'bullets', but to also continue onwards towards the ex-Turk. Vincent deftly dodged the arcs of compressed air and shot at the former general whenever he had the chance, but he was now clearly on the defensive. Sephiroth, now no longer hindered by an unending barrage of bullets, aggressively pressed forward in a bid to close the distance between him and the gunman. The former general knew that although his arcs of compressed air could reach opponents at a distance, they rapidly loose speed and power the further they traveled from their origin. Trying to best the ex-Turk in a contest of attack range would be a foolish effort. If he were able to close the distance between the two of them however, then the match would be his.

Vincent swiftly leapt backwards away from Sephiroth. The open, flat terrain truly wasn't favourable for the ex-Turk against the ex-SOLDIER. The silver general also had the advantage in stamina. Even if Vincent managed to evade Sephiroth all the while and lead him on a chase around the arena, it was likely that he would tire sooner than Sephiroth. His best chance in winning this fight lie with his ability to end it quickly. If he had some materia, then it might have been easier. His natural talent for magic had always been as important a part of his arsenal as his skill with guns, and that talent has only grown with his forced joining with the demons. But without materia, any magic will have to come from his transformations. But which one? Defeating Sephiroth was difficult, but defeating the Archdaemon and escaping from Hell was much, much harder. The only card he had to play against the powerful Archdaemon and the demons of her Circle was the element of surprise. The ex-Turk had long decided that he will not let out his most powerful demon, Chaos, unless either it was absolutely necessary, or when it came time to make his escape. He would rather not reveal Hellmasker either—the demon's potent curses will be invaluable against foes that would otherwise be impossible to defeat. That left Galian Beast and Death Gigas.

Death Gigas had stronger attacks, but was a bit slow...physically and otherwise... If the slow-moving demon was able to land a hit on Sephiroth, then the injury it caused might slow down the swordsman enough to give Death Gigas a chance to win the fight. But on the flip side, Death Gigas might not be fast enough to avoid Sephiroth's attacks. When the former general was under Jenova's control he could perform powerful magic attacks without needing to use materia, and judging by the Shadow Flare, Sephiroth had not lost the ability. And compared to Vincent himself and all his other demons, Death Gigas' defense against magic attacks was abysmal.

Galian Beast's attacks were less powerful, but the demon was fast and tough and had good defenses for both physical and magical attacks. However, Sephiroth might be able to better predict Galian's attack patterns since they had fought alongside each other when they first arrived in Hell. And the animal-like demon wasn't particularly cunning either...

Vincent gritted his teeth. Either choice would be a risk, and he really, _really_ did not like the consequences of loosing this fight. But—crimson eyes darted towards the Archdaemon's box seat—he knew well the implications of being _owned_, of being completely under the power and whim of another, and this 'Duel and Screw' was NOT the worst that could possibly be forced upon him. Vincent took a silent breath. He had made his decision. Now, he just had to find a way to distract Sephiroth long enough for him to go through his transformation.

The lack of concealment from his usual crimson cloak or the specially tailored Turk uniform was yet another hindrance. If he had known that the Archdaemon was going to spring _this_ on them, then he would have at least worn a long coat—Hell's summer heat be damned (though Sephiroth somehow still managed to be comfortable in his ever-present trench coat). But Vincent had never been foolish enough to allow himself to become wholly dependent on these things. The ex-Turk allowed one of Sephiroth's attacks to graze him and made it look as if it forced him into a roll. Discreetly turning his body slightly away from Sephiroth to hide his left hand, he reached into his holster and switched his handgun for another that he equipped. This one was heavier and slower than the guns he's been using up to this point, but it had the power that Vincent needed. When he came back up from his roll, the gun in his left hand was charged and ready, and aimed at the next coming arc.

A large bolt of light shot out and crashed into the wave of compressed air with a resounding boom. Sephiroth was forced to shield his eyes from the resulting flash of light and dust. The next thing he knew, large balls of flame came flying at him from behind the shimmering air and residue sparks. He barely dodged in time. The fireballs barreled into the walls behind him, singeing the edges of his black trench coat and billowing his silver hair wildly about him. A few of the fireballs flew into the audience, and shimmering magical shields of various shapes and sizes promptly went up. The walls around the arena were high enough, but the audience were unshielded and susceptible to stray bullets and other projectile attacks. Sephiroth had wondered about it, but it appeared that stray projectile attacks were also part of the entertainment. The audience cheered quite excitedly whenever a bullet or fireball or arc of compressed air came flying out. Sephiroth even caught from the corner of his eye, one of the demons showing off a hole on his arm from one of Vincent's stray 'bullets' to his neighbours.

But there was no time to muse on these things; Galian Beast's fireballs were pursuing the former general relentlessly. Ignoring singeing clothes and hair and the waves of heat and dust that assaulted him, Sephiroth narrowly dodge the first three fireballs, then was forced to roll to avoid the fourth. Coming up from his roll, he found himself cornered to the arena wall. An idea suddenly came to him. He swung his blade in a rapid succession of quick shallow strikes, and sent several small arcs of compressed air into the next coming wave of fireballs, making them fan out then roll inwards onto themselves. He then leapt backwards, bounced his momentum off of the arena wall, and sent himself flying over the screen of churning flame, sweeping his blade downwards as he landed almost right on top of Galian Beast. The beast's speed was also impressive; he easily leapt away from Sephiroth's attack. Seeing that the former general seemed to have over-rotated himself, exposing his back and vulnerable neck, the beast instinctively went in for the kill with bared teeth and savage claws.

Sephiroth however, was counting on just that: Vincent might have been able to see through his ploy—or at the very least, known better than to give up his advantage in attack range and foolishly engage the master swordsman in close combat—but it was clear that whenever the gunman transformed, it was not his mind, but a more feral, instinct-driven mind that controlled his actions. The former general aimed a hard slash at the ground, sending sand and grit spraying into Galian Beast's face. It worked just as he had hoped; the beast staggered backwards and was forced to turn his head and blink away the sand. Sephiroth used the opportunity to close in on the beast with a quick dash, then, planting his feet firmly into the ground, twisted his powerful torso to deal a brutal slash into the beast's vulnerable flank. Galian Beast roared in pain as his great form was sent flying into the air. Sephiroth jumped and followed him and mercilessly cut into the demon with a rapid succession of eight powerful slashes, then finished with a forward slash that sent the purple-black form flying across the arena and into the arena wall. The arena wall behind the beast crumbled onto the already bleeding body. With a feral roar and a valiant struggle, the great beast threw the broken remains of the wall off of his back, staggered a few steps towards the silver general, golden eyes savage with surprise and pain, before finally collapsing face-first onto the ground. Red light flashed around him, and soon it was once again the slender ex-Turk who lay unmoving among the swirling dust.

Sephiroth's brows furrowed. He hasn't been announced the winner yet. Was there something more he was supposed to do? He approached Vincent carefully. The ex-Turk was ominously still—he didn't even seem to be breathing. An uneasy feeling settled in Sephiroth's gut as he leaned over the pale gunman. Had the referee or the shielding spell failed? Was Vincent...

Without warning, demonic claws suddenly flashed into his vision. Sephiroth was barely able to dodge the surprise attack. Blood dripped from deep gashes across his jawbone. If his reflexes had been any less than what they were, then Sephiroth would have been missing half of his face right now. The former general almost smirked. He should have known that the stubborn ex-Turk wouldn't go down that easily.

Undeterred by the failed surprise attack, Vincent quickly rolled over and took out his gun with his right hand. But he was weakened by his injuries and was at a disadvantage against Sephiroth at close range. The shot went off but he was not fast enough. The bullet only grazed the silver tresses by Sephiroth's ear as his hand was caught by the former general, and soon he was forced onto his stomach with his right arm twisted against his back.

Straddling the pale ex-Turk, Sephiroth forced the gun from Vincent's grip and pressed its muzzle into the back of Vincent's skull. The shielding spell around the gunman flared to life and a gong-like sound rang through the arena from the tall tower that stood beside the Archdaemon's box seat. Sephiroth looked down at the slender man under him as healing spells washed over the both of them. Their weapons of light seemed to have been deactivated too, and were now silent and useless. The ex-Turk stayed still where he was. They both knew who had been announced the winner of the match. And now...the hard part.

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**More Author's Notes:** Phew! Can't believe I wrote such a long fight scene! Hope it wasn't too bad. Well, I hope you all got the idea of what's coming next...5000 words of non-stop smex! ...Or something along the lines. In respect to this site's rules and in light of its recent activities though, I will likely snip the most 'mature' parts of this story for this site, and post the chapters in full on other sites such as AFF and UFF. The links to the full chapters will be posted in the affected chapters for those of you who choose to access these...err...forbidden material. Until next time~


	15. Chapter 14: Maiden Voyage

**Author's Note:** Thank you very much for your reviews and encouragement! (and...I really appreciate some of you taking the time to review but, I really can't read Spanish ^^;) Sorry for the wait :P Work hasn't gotten any less insane as I had hoped...in fact it seems to be going in the other direction... That and I can't seem to get this chapter to a state where I'm 100% happy with it. Ah well, I think I've tinkered with this enough and I've kept you waiting for too long, so here it is~~ Just in time for the wholesome family holidays XD

In accordance with this site's rules, this chapter has been edited for mature content. I tried to do it so that not too much is left out and the next chapters will still make sense with this one, hope it's not too confusing or disjointed. If you wish to read the full version, it is up on (remove the [] brackets):

ff[.adultfanfiction.]net/[story].[php]?no=600083053&chapter=15

Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, and wish you all the best for the coming New Year!

**Warning:** Sexually explicit stuff, some censorship of sexually explicit stuff so that it is not overly sexually explicit

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Chapter 14 - Maiden Voyage

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The crowd cheered at the sound of the gong, and then fell silent expectantly. Sephiroth discarded the useless gun in his hand and stared at the still form that he was straddling, the adrenaline from the battle still pounding in his ears. The shielding spell that had encased the ex-Turk had now receded back to its latent state as if hinting at what was expected of them. Sephiroth had won. And that meant Vincent had to submit to him for...

Sephiroth took in a quiet breath as he considered the implications. He had never been close to anyone enough, never trusted anyone enough, to engage in such physical intimacy, but he had (unwillingly) witnessed the antics of some careless people in SOLDIER, as well as seen certain hidden stashes of magazines and videos in the barracks. It _had_ occurred to the former general that this had the potential to inflict great pain on Vincent, and perhaps force out some answers that the ex-Turk had stubbornly refused him. But he dismissed the idea as quickly as it came. For one thing, the ghost of Angeal will probably come charging out of the lifestream, hunt him down and lecture him about SOLDIER honour for the rest of his life. And for another...there was a small voice at the back of his head that vehemently rejected the idea. Sephiroth couldn't quite understand it. He knew that the ex-Turk had an impressive tolerance for ungodly amounts of pain, but he didn't _want_ to be the one who's inflicting it. Especially not in this way. Something this intimate... He wanted to...wanted to...do it...'right'. But how? He had never found touch to be pleasurable, and had no idea how to touch another so that it would bring them pleasure. And from what he's seen, Vincent disliked the sensation of being touched as much as Sephiroth did...and all the knowledge the young general had regarding sex where information he read from medical books, and glimpses of lewd acts in the SOLDIER barracks...and Fenris's antics...

"You might want to start by taking off his clothes." the Archdaemon's voice drawled almost mockingly from the box seats.

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. He was being forced to perform sexual intercourse in front of thousands of strangers for their entertainment, for money, and there was nothing he could do about it! The only other time that he remembered feeling this helpless was when he was very young in the labs. For a long time all he could do was to curl up into a ball in some dark corner, trying to hide from the scientists. But they'd always find him, drag him out of his feeble sanctuary and force him to do whatever they wanted. But as he grew older, he realized one very important thing: he may be a 'specimen', but he was a very precious specimen—and these people _needed_ him. They _needed_ him to be strong, to be their perfect specimen, their perfect experiment, their perfect SOLDIER. They _needed_ him to be a symbol of success and perfection that can be put on display—a symbol of _their_ success and perfection. And so with that knowledge, he slowly began wrestling bits and pieces of control from his keepers. By the time he became ShinRa's teenaged general, not even President ShinRa—the man who owned him as a piece of corporate property—would dare push him too far. And then all that fell to smoke and ash, quite literally, when Jenova took over.

At first he had been happy, truly happy for once, for finally having found the truth about himself, for finally having found his place in the world. But it did not last. By the time he realized he had once again been lied to, it was too late; Jenova had already sunk her claws in too deep for him to break free. And then he was introduced to a completely new level of helplessness. At least in the labs, his body, his actions, his decisions have been his own. Under Jenova's control, nothing was his anymore. He couldn't think clearly, his mind was filled with the cacophony of _her_, eating him away from the inside; and his body moved and acted against all his unwillingness, betraying him again and again—completely and utterly under someone else's will.

And now that his body was his own again, he was a slave, one who was being forced to play a dangerous game in a world that he did not fully understand, against non-human masters whose moves he did not yet know how to predict. Sephiroth looked down at the unmoving body underneath him. Vincent was completely silent and still, and the blank expression on his face...Sephiroth immediately recognized it as one that he himself had once worn on the operation tables in the ShinRa labs. ...Gaia... Sephiroth let out a silent breath, he was being forced to... His hand tightened around Vincent's captive wrist as he glared up into the Archdaemon's box seat. He won't do it. He can't.

"Just do it." the quiet ex-Turk suddenly spoke through gritted teeth, "Neither of us is ready to engage her in battle yet, and we have nothing to bargain with her."

The silver warrior's mako eyes flared. He knew the truth in Vincent's words, but his temper blazed at the gunman's resignation. He leaned down and growled into the ex-Turk's ear, "And are you going to tell me that _this_ is 'only your body performing a necessary action'? That this is simply arranging one's limbs a certain way? Are you such a _Turk_ that not even this means anything to you? Have you no self-respect, no sense of self-worth left in you?"

The slender body underneath him suddenly bucked with surprising force, and Sephiroth found himself flipped onto his back, with the ex-Turk now straddling him.

"If _you_ are too _soft_ to do it, then I will." the ex-Turk growled as he roughly jerked the buttons on his own shirt open, his red eyes glowing as he glared down imperiously at the former general underneath him in mocking challenge.

Sephiroth's pupils narrowed to mere slits, his male instincts instantly reacting to the ex-Turk's challenge. He jerked his own hips against Vincent and shoved the ex-Turk back into the ground, growling into his face. Vincent growled back, yet made no move to fight Sephiroth. For a moment the silver general just paused there, scowling at the ex-Turk as if daring him to try a counter. Then Sephiroth suddenly realized that Vincent was lying half naked under him, waiting for him. The ex-Turk was to submit to him, Sephiroth had fought and won the right, fair and square. Something inside of the former general roared in predatory excitement at the thought, and the adrenaline that had yet to die down soared through his veins. The sight of Vincent's pale chest exposed and heaving under his unbuttoned shirt, his belt slightly loosened from the struggling and riding suggestively low on his narrow hips, and his flashing, defiant crimson eyes, were all incredibly intoxicating. And there was that smell again. It smelled so, so very good, mixed in with Vincent's unique scent of leather and gunpowder and the cold, wild scent of winter storms. Almost unconsciously, Sephiroth's hand rose up to cover the abstract pattern of the shielding spell that still glowed faintly over Vincent's heart. It did not belong there. One day, he will win the right to mark the ex-Turk as his own. Sephiroth didn't understand all the strange thoughts and feelings that were welling up inside him, but at this moment, he didn't really care. All he knew was that he wanted more, more from the ex-Turk. Slowly, as if being drawn by gravity, Sephiroth's head dipped lower and lower until his lips met Vincent's in a soft, experimental kiss.

At first Vincent didn't respond, too surprised by both the kiss itself and the chasteness of it. Then the young man on top of him gave a small sigh and began to withdraw, and Vincent realized with a start that Sephiroth was not going to continue if he thought Vincent was unwilling. Not entirely sure of his reasons for it—perhaps it was the doings of his demons, who had been fully alert and attentive all this time, or perhaps it was the plans of escape and the thought that they couldn't afford to openly antagonize the Archdaemon just yet—Vincent leaned forward slightly and returned Sephiroth's kiss.

As if some floodgate has been opened, the silver general took a deep breath and pressed forward almost hungrily, and lips and tongue melded together and wrestled one another in pure primal instinct and want. One hand drifted appreciatively over the ex-Turk's firm, muscular chest until it came to the dark nipples that rose from the pale planes. Almost in pure curiosity, Sephiroth ran his hand over the soft flesh, finding it surprisingly silky to the touch, and slightly cooler than the rest of Vincent's body. Gently, experimentally, Sephiroth rolled the little bud between his fingers and watched in fascination as it began to harden, gathering the surrounding ring of dark flesh tight about itself. There was a slight change in the sound of Vincent's breathing too. It was slightly quicker, deeper, with occasional irregularities in its steady rhythm. Completely fascinated, Sephiroth reached over and repeated the treatment to the other nipple.

Vincent watched Sephiroth silently, dark brows slightly furrowed. Sephiroth was moving as if purely by exploration and instinct. And there was no mistaking the innocence and fascination in those mako eyes. Sephiroth was acting as if...he'd never done this before... Was he...untouched? At the back of his mind, his demons perked to that realization.

But at the time of the Nibelheim incident, Sephiroth had already been 25 years old. And such a celebrated war hero was sure to be the object of worshipful affection for many young women, and men. Raven brows furrowed deeper as Sephiroth's hands travelled down the pale torso almost tentatively, exploring every rise and fall of the body's contour, and tracing the jagged lines of the scars. It's not just that Sephiroth seemed like he had never experienced physical intimacy before, the former general was acting as if he had never really touched another human being before. Then a sudden thought occurred to the ex-Turk. The tension in Sephiroth every time somebody came too close to him, every time someone touched him, the unease in him when Fenris offered to... Had Sephiroth never experienced any human touch beside the kind that was given in battlefields and labs? By Gaia... A strange anger began to swell up within him. His demons stirred uneasily at the sudden burst of silent rage from their host. Sephiroth stopped in his actions and stared wide-eyed at the ex-Turk. If it were any other time, any other situation, then Vincent might have found amusement in the expression on Sephiroth's face. The former general looked as if he were a child that was caught doing something he should not, staring wide-eyed, afraid, waiting for the reprimand. Vincent pushed down hard on his own rage. Hojo was dead. There was nothing more he could do to the bastard. Sephiroth, however...

Slowly, carefully, Vincent reached out a hand and placed it on Sephiroth's forearm. The ex-general tensed. Vincent forced the anger that threatened to swell up again to dissipate. He let the hand linger there until he felt the muscles under it relax slightly and saw mako eyes blink at him in question, then he let his hand travel gently up the former general's arm until he reached the collar of the trench coat. Grabbing hold of the collar, he then eased the coat off the broad shoulders, carefully watching Sephiroth all the while.

The former general shivered at the unexpected, gentle touch. Once the coat was gone, the warm hands then moved to the belt. Sephiroth allowed Vincent to help him out of the rest of his clothing, and afterwards, moved to help Vincent out of his. The ex-Turk watched unmoving and unresisting as Sephiroth lifted his feet and removed his pointy boots, and when Sephiroth tugged at his pants in unspoken question, he lifted his hips slightly, silently giving his former enemy his consent. Sephiroth swallowed. In the sitting position that they were in, Vincent's neck, his shoulders, were now enticingly close, barely a hand-width away from Sephiroth's inquiring senses, and that strange, intoxicating smell was stronger than ever.

Without thinking, Sephiroth wrapped his arms around the lithe form and pressed his nose into the curve of the ex-Turk's neck, inhaling that wonderful scent. His tongue, as if having a mind of its own, mischievously darted out to get a taste, and his teeth and lips moved instinctively over the smooth soft skin. A warm hand carefully placed itself onto his waist, and Sephiroth felt both the familiar urge to break away from the touch, and the strange new urge to have the hand move and touch more of him. Slightly uneasy at the conflicting sensations, Sephiroth took the hand, along with the demonic claw that was being carefully kept away from his body, and brought them both around to be pinned securely behind the ex-Turk's back. He then gently lowered them both back down to the ground, finding the position easier for his lips and tongue to explore more of that strong, supple body. Vincent made no move to resist either actions, and his hands stayed obediently behind his back even when Sephiroth's hands left to travel along his sides. Sephiroth felt a surge of heat rush through his body at the ex-Turk's submission, and the knowledge that he had won Vincent's submission by besting the ex-Turk through fair battle only made the heat run hotter, shooting directly to his groin. His hands traveled down and cupped the firm buttocks, his once explorative fingers now pressing into the ex-Turk's flesh with insistent, possessive force.

Vincent's body suddenly gave a jolt and pain flashed in those crimson eyes. Startled, Sephiroth instantly tried to withdraw, but Vincent's hand suddenly clamped around his wrist.

"Slowly." the ex-Turk bit out through clenched teeth.

Sephiroth followed the instruction and slowly, carefully withdrew the offending digit. Vincent sat up a little and allowed himself a moment to muse at the almost panicked expression on the former general's face, then said quietly and patiently, "Sephiroth, we need lubricant."

Sephiroth blinked. He understood what Vincent meant. He remembered seeing something like that in one of those videos, remembered Zack's 'discussions' with Kunsel about how saliva always dried too fast, how ketchup was too messy,* and the pros and cons of different types and different brands of artificial lubricants. But he never paid them much attention. He never thought that one day he'd wished he had. Nor did he ever expect himself to wish that he had woken up a bit earlier that night on the slave ship so that he'd know what Fenris and Inuyasha had used for lubricant, for he was now drawing a complete blank on what he could use in his present situation.

Suddenly, a small bottle of clear liquid dropped onto the ground beside him with a 'plop'. The two men looked up to see one of the referee's spheres becoming partially visible to reveal Fah'yn inside, giving them a knowing smile and a slight, encouraging wave, before going invisible again.

"What? You mean human males don't produce their own lubrication? What a troublesome species! How the fuck are they able to be so damned prolific?" the Archdaemon's incredulous voice sounded from the box seats.

A low growl rumbled in Sephiroth's throat as he was suddenly reminded of the demons and why he was here. Vincent sighed inwardly. If they were to finish this, it looked like he was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

—

Vincent simply laid where he was for a long while, taken completely by surprise by his own orgasm. He had expected this to be nothing but grim necessity at worst, primal rubbing of flesh against flesh at best; had expected the ghosts of his past to come back and haunt him with a vengeance. This was Sephiroth after all, his former enemy, his sin, born of the union between the woman he loved with all his heart—and ultimately failed, and the man he loathed with every fibre of his being. And yet the silver general, the Demon of Wutai, was now lying with his head on his chest, sleeping peacefully—almost like a child, spent from his first taste of the pleasures that could come from the warmth of another's body. The situation was so unexpected, so strange, that the ex-Turk was at a complete loss as to what he should do.

Fortunately for Vincent, the awkwardness of the moment was soon alleviated when a massive shield of midnight rose to cover the arena. He heard the Archdaemon's voice announce the end of the show, and through the dark, semi-opaque shield, he saw the shapeless forms of the audience move to the exits. Carefully, tentatively, he placed a hand on Sephiroth's shoulder in an attempt to wake him up, half expecting the battle-hardened light-sleeper to jolt awake and reward his efforts with a fist to the gut. Yet the battle-hardened light-sleeper only stirred sleepily, leaning into the soft touch, before seeming to fall even deeper into slumber. Vincent blinked. It would seem that even if a large part of this silver-haired young man had been irreparably warped by corporate greed and mad science and alien poison, deep in his subconscious his human heritage still recognized and yearned for the simple comfort of a gentle touch.

A movement in the periphery of his vision brought him out of his thoughts. The ex-Turk looked up to see soft, clean, good-sized lengths of black fabric materialize from the darkness of the shield and drift like pieces of the night down to him and Sephiroth. Looking over to their torn and dusty clothes and feeling the stickiness of the aftermath of their recent activities, Vincent accepted the fabrics appreciatively and wrapped them around himself and his sleeping companion, and then waited patiently until the two spheres of the referees appeared before him.

"Come," said Fah'yn gently as he gestured to the other sphere, which the other referee had vacated, "I'll take you back to your rooms."

Vincent nodded and looked towards the former general. Sephiroth was still in deep sleep and didn't look like he'll wake up on his own any time soon. Vincent considered waking him, but decided against it. It's less awkward this way for them both. So instead, the ex-Turk carefully picked up the silver form, sat himself into the empty sphere's seat, and cradled the sleeping general carefully in his lap. Fah'yn waited until they were settled and secure, then ran a hand over the controls of his own sphere. A pale blue light then extended between the two spheres, linking them together as Fah'yn led them gently and steadily into the air.

Vincent looked down upon Sephiroth's sleeping face. The expression on the former general's face was so unexpectedly soft, so child-like, that he reminded Vincent very much of that time, long ago, when he first saw him in the lab. Vincent's chest constricted at the remembrance. Was this the true Sephiroth? Had that wide-eyed silver-haired child, though raised in the cold, sterile labyrinth of metallic contraptions, unceasing electronic beeps and monsters wearing faces of men, still against all odds, grew up to be the magnificent young man of flesh and blood who was now sleeping in his arms? The young man who he, through his cowardice, his selfishness, had abandoned to lies and madness? Vincent's grip tightened involuntarily around the sleeping form as he sightlessly watched the rust red of Hell's twilight sky slowly turn to the inky black of night.

* * *

*in reference to the...creative use of ketchup in Orin Drake's "Crack is Good"


	16. Chapter 15: Labyrinth

**Author's Notes:** Wow, it's really been a year since I posted the first chapter of this story! I initially tried to make this a simple little project, I didn't think it'd get this long! Nor did I think I'd last this long XD I have a lot to thank for all of you who have patiently waited for updates all this time and have given your own time to leave your thoughts and feedback. And to my Spanish-speaking reviewer: not only do you take the time to write a review, but you also make the effort to write it in a language that you're not confident with. I appreciate it very, very much *hugs* And yes, I understood what you wrote, it wasn't bad at all!

Sorry for the slow, slow update :( Work has been...busy... The last weeks before the deadline...are now over. And boy am I glad we got past THAT. Hope the next deadline will be a bit gentler T_T And this chapter too, just kept getting longer and longer and longer, so much so that I had to split it up. So yeah, the ending of this chapter might be a bit awkward XP

Anywho, hope you enjoy~

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Chapter 15 - Labyrinth

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The results from the 'Duel and Screw' far exceeded expectations. The amount of largesse received averaged at about 8.50 Yem per spectator. Tah'rh had already arranged for a second and third 'Duel and Screw', and from the way the seats were selling, it looked like she might even arrange for a fourth or fifth.

True to her word, the day after they received the sales data, the Archdaemon made special arrangements to dismiss all but the bare minimum of guards around the Central Library and even personally took her slaves there, making up some half-hearted excuse about suddenly wanting to go and read during high noon—the time of day when demons were most inactive, due to the high temperatures from the blazing midday sun.

"You know what, it really wasn't a good idea to come out here at this obscene hour. I'm suddenly unbearably sleepy." said Tah'rh unnecessarily loudly to the library's empty main lobby as she plopped down on one of the couches provided for visitors there, "I think I'll just rest here for two hours, which is when that hand on the clock goes there," she pointed as she dramatically yawned and closed her eyes, "I'll just be here, sleeping, beside these elevators, which leads up to the 6th floor, the floor with the maps and stuff. My slaves will just stay with me this whole time, not doing anything. Certainly nothing like wondering around and reading or anything of the like. And I expect them to be here with me when I wake up in two hours, sharp."

Vincent and Sephiroth eyed the large empty lobby, the silent, unused elevators, and the 'sleeping' Archdaemon, then quietly set to action. It wasn't very hard working out which of the strange symbols on the elevator buttons meant the 6th floor, for only one of them worked. Obviously Tah'rh had already sent word ahead to the library staff, and there was not a soul in sight in the impressive-sized library. But Vincent slipped silently into the shadows anyways. He felt safer, more at ease this way. Who knows what kinds of tricks the Archdaemon might be up to, and even if she wasn't up to anything, who's to say that some other demon didn't just happen to suddenly want to read at noon, and accidentally came upon the Archdaemon's slaves wandering where slaves most obviously should not. Although...it was quite apparent that somebody else didn't share his caution. Just when he was starting to wonder how he was going to find the right shelves in this maze of bookshelves, where all the signs and directions were written in the demons' script, he noticed that there were several large, bright-green paper arrows stuck to various shelves pointing the way. The ex-Turk's raven brows furrowed as he gingerly followed the overly-conspicuous directions.

Sephiroth didn't share the ex-Turk's caution either. He strode down the shelves looking very much like he owned the place and had every right to be there, and paused from time to time when a book cover caught his eye.

Vincent had heard that Sephiroth had been a voracious reader before the Nibelheim Incident. The young general had preferred to bury himself in a book over participating in the rambunctious activities that the other young men in the SOLDIER barracks got up to. Seeing him there, wandering between the giant bookshelves of an abandoned library, was bringing up unsettling images of how the silver general had spent the final days before his descent into madness. Vincent had no time to dwell on these thoughts however, for he suddenly caught a movement from the corner of his eye. He turned around just fast enough to catch sight of a pale, graceful, long-fingered hand retreating behind the shelves after sticking on another one of those brightly-coloured arrows. In one swift leap Vincent cleared the rows of shelves that stood between him and the disappearing hand, but when he looked down the shelves where the owner of the hand should be, there was no one there. Crimson eyes narrowed, the ex-Turk sharpened his senses to the still air around him.

It didn't take long for the ex-Turk to pick up a faint rustling to his right. There was the hand again, an impossible distance away, sticking on another arrow at a T-shaped intersection formed by the shelves. As before, the hand quickly retreated into the shadows between the shelves, but there was nowhere for the owner of the hand to retreat to, for the shelves that hid the owner of the hand stood against the wall on the other end, forming a cul-de-sac. Vincent wasted no time cutting off the mysterious person's only escape route and closing the gap between him and the shadowed area between the shelves. But when he got there, again, there was nothing there but empty air.

Sephiroth came up behind the puzzling ex-Turk and peered into the empty space over his shoulder, but dismissed it with an uninterested shrug and continued on following the bright-green arrows.

Vincent cast one more look around his surroundings, then once again melted into the shadows behind Sephiroth.

It turned out that those huge green arrows led them straight and true to the shelves that contained maps and charts that document the flow of the Aether Currents around 7th Circle. They bore enough resemblance to nautical charts for the ex-general and the ex-Turk to recognize them for what they were. Vincent's demons remembered enough of the demon script to recognized the words for "Wastelands", "Sunless Harbour", and "City of Gold"—the capital city of 7th Circle, their current location. The rest of the various symbols and different coloured lines on the maps however, were a complete mystery. Vincent's brows furrowed at a disc that was drawn with two kinds of lines for its border: a bluish wavy line inside a solid pink line. The disc seemed to be floating somewhere off the coast of the Sunless Harbour. There were a few others like it around the harbour, though some were only half-circles, all with the bluish wavy border but not always with the larger pink border. He didn't remember seeing anything that they might have represented when he was there. It looked like what time they had left before the Archdaemon 'woke' were all going to be spent on trying to decipher how to read these maps, and Vincent had no idea how much progress they'd be able to make, or if anything they managed to learn would be of much help.

Sephiroth also studied the odd disc that Vincent was focusing on. Somehow it looked vaguely...familiar... That odd shade of blue... Suddenly, Sephiroth recognized what it represented: the bluish, turbulent ball of energy that signaled a potential vortex, which Tah'rh had used to transport them from Junon to Sunless Harbour.

The former general quickly shared his discovery with the ex-Turk. Vincent was evidently deep in conversation with his demons, for the crimson eyes that looked up were heavily flecked with gold, and they regarded the former general with a feral and almost...predatory...light flickering in their depths. But the ex-Turk then blinked and, looking down at the maps with eyes that were once again their normal crimson, he pointed out all the symbols and writings that his resident demons recognized. Remembering what Tah'rh had said about 'seasonal vortices' and 'summer vortices', Vincent then immediately worked out that the pink border must have indicated whether or not a vortex was seasonal, and the demon numbers written around the pink border must be some kind of indication of when the seasonal vortices appear. As for some of the patterned lines that flowed throughout the maps, Sephiroth remembered when he had been floating in the Lifestream, he noticed that there were some parts of the liquid life force that flowed at different speeds from the rest of the Lifestream, or even in different directions, and the interactions between those parts and the main stream created interesting-looking patterns of light and shadow in the seemingly uniform mass of glowing green. A few of the lines on the maps resembled those patterns he'd seen almost exactly.

And thus, the two men—and four demons—worked to piece together the information that the maps held with their combined knowledge, experiences, and guesses, until a rustle from somewhere above them made them both look up. High on the wall just overhead, hung another bright-green arrow, with its head pointing conspicuously towards the clock that was hanging just above it. Time's up.

—

Also true to her word, the Archdaemon was not negligent of her slaves' basic needs. In fact, with Fah'yn's help, Vincent and Sephiroth found themselves quite generously provided for. Apparently Tah'rh had tasked her brother with finding food suitable for humans, and the silver-haired young man took to his task _quite_ enthusiastically.

"Err... Fah'yn, are you _sure_ that humans need all of this? I'm pretty sure I've seen humans surviving on much less..." asked Tah'rh as she frowned at the small mountain of various kinds of meats, fruits, vegetables, etc. that her brother had brought back, her fingers unconsciously scratching at the pocket where she puts her wallet.

"Yes but did any of those humans look as good as they do?" Fah'yn asked back, gesturing to Sephiroth and Vincent, who were both quietly standing to the side.

Tah'rh eyed her brother suspiciously, then reluctantly shook her head.

"And that's because those humans were under-nourished. If you want Vincent and Sephiroth to look their best, and I know you do, both for the shows you put on in the stadium and in front of the other Archdaemons, then you'll need more than just the bare minimum for human survival." Fah'yn then began to patiently go over the various kinds of foods he brought and explained in detail about carbohydrates, vitamins, minerals, essential proteins, amino acids, fatty acids, sodium chloride, good cholesterol, bad cholesterol, etc etc. Sephiroth knew that the battle had been won long before the young man was finished, and Vincent had long since started to consider the various cabinets in their rooms and calculate the amount of storage room they had versus the estimated volume of the small mountain of food.

For their clothes, the Archdaemon and members of her council argued furiously over what they should wear. Tah'rh rejected the traditional clothing for an Archdaemon's slaves from the outset, finding them too gaudy and completely unflattering for her beautiful slaves. But the designs that she favoured were not at all suitable for Archdaemon traditions and protocols. Other suggestions from the council ranged from having them wear nothing at all to ridiculously complex and ungainly costumes. Some of those suggestions didn't even take into account of how many limbs the two men actually had. But still, every one of the members of the council was adamant in his or her own ideas on how to make the Archdaemon's slaves dress to their finicky master's tastes and adhere to the traditions at the same time. And while they argued, all Sephiroth and Vincent had to make do with for clothes were the long pieces of cloths that Tseng had provided them the day they were bought. Mercifully for them, it was Tseng who finally stepped in and vetoed everyone with the most level-headed and practical solution that anyone else on the council had been able to come up with. Tseng's strategy was simple: have Vincent and Sephiroth wear the traditional slave attire—modified slightly to Tah'rh's tastes—during formal meetings with the other Archdaemons and demon lords, and have the tailors prioritize the making of those clothes first. And for less formal settings, they will just have to make do with something acceptable from the local clothing shops until they come to an agreement about the style and design of the slaves' day-to-day wear. Apparently it was quite a common hobby of demon lords to dress up their slaves in various costumes in casual settings, and so having the Archdaemon's slaves be seen wearing store-bought clothes of various styles wasn't too inappropriate or uncommon. And since they were fast running out of time before Vincent and Sephiroth were to appear before thousands of spectators from all over the Axis for the 'Duel and Screw', the rest of the council grudgingly agreed...and then started arguing again about who should go shopping for the slaves' clothes.

Hearing their troubles, Fah'yn offered to pick up some clothes for his sister's slaves along his travels...and was met with a resounding, unanimous "NO!" from the entire council, and most loudly of all from Tah'rh. Fah'yn then pointed out that it was already less than a day before the 'Duel and Screw' were to begin...

In the end, Tseng, the First Counsellor of 7th Circle, took the task of taking his sovereign's new slaves clothes-shopping entirely onto himself.

Sephiroth could _almost_ sympathize with the dark-haired demon for having such a demanding and eccentric sovereign. It was clear that the First Counsellor wasn't very much interested in clothes at all. He took his two charges into a clothing shop for humanoid customers, curtly acknowledged the surprised but polite greeting of the shopkeeper, and then simply sat himself in a chair in the corner—frowning and scribbling over the designs for formal slave attire—while Vincent and Sephiroth went about the shop picking out their own clothes.

As he walked between the colourful aisles of clothes, Sephiroth couldn't help but muse that this was the first time he had ever gone shopping at a clothing store. When he was younger in the labs, he wore whatever the scientists and the trainers gave to him. When he became the living symbol of ShinRa's power, the president brought in esteemed designers and tailors to have the Silver General's entire wardrobe custom-made. By then Sephiroth had won himself enough influence to make some decisions for himself, and he insisted on having his say on the designs. President ShinRa, drunk on his own success at the time, gladly indulged his favourite general—and Sephiroth had played ShinRa's game of politics long enough to know how much to push his designs while staying within the president's comfort zone. Still, ShinRa's finest simply did NOT go _shopping_ at local stores. They had a small army of assistants, runners, coffee-carriers, etc., for that.

It seemed that an Archdaemon's slaves weren't really supposed to go shopping at local stores either. Many curious glances where thrown their way from the few customers who were already in the store, and Sephiroth's sensitive ears picked up more than a few whispered speculations on what could have prompted the presence of the First Counsellor of the Circle and the Archdaemon's new slaves in this modest clothing store. But the people of the Circle also seemed to be well-acquainted with their ruler's antics; many of them guessed correctly—from Tah'rh's stubborn rejection of propriety to the bickering in the council to Tseng's headaches. One glance from Tseng's dark eyes hushed them all however, and they all maintained a respectful distance from the odd trio while doing their best to pretend they're shopping as normal.

To Vincent and Sephiroth's pleasant surprise, they were both able to find clothing that not only fit them, but were also similar to the kinds of clothes that they normally wore back in their world. Sephiroth found a few trench coats that were very similar to the ones he wore as part of his SOLDIER uniform, and Vincent was even able to find some boots with pointy metal toes. Most of the clothes they chose were either black or near-black. Sephiroth stopped mid-stride however, when he caught sight of a brightly-coloured T-shirt that was obviously two-sizes too large for him. When he was in ShinRa, all his formal clothes were black by default in accordance to the colour-code for first-class SOLDIER uniforms. His more casual clothes couldn't be called "colourful" either. He did not mind it. Black was a simple, elegant colour, and can withstand a lot of dirt and stain—a useful trait for the clothing of fighters. Genesis however, hated it and insisted on wearing a red coat on top of his black uniform. Zack never objected to the monochromatic uniform—it was what he had strived for all his young life after all. In his free time though, he preferred large, colourful T-shirts, sometimes decorated with some odd choices of words, or cartoon characters with huge, bulgy eyes. President ShinRa gladly indulged one of his second-favourites the red coat, but made it clear that T-shirts the likes of the ones in Zack's wardrobe were off-limits to the esteemed images of the commanders of his army.

Focusing back on the T-shirt before him, Sephiroth pulled it from the rack to find that it was indeed quite similar to one of Zack's more outrageous shirts—complete with a cartoony character with large bulgy eyes on the front. Sephiroth couldn't help the feeling of curiosity that welled up. He had never worn something like this before and didn't really understand the appeal, but he had always wondered what it would be like to wear a shirt like this. And why not? He was not in ShinRa anymore. It was worth a try to see if Tseng and Tah'rh would let him have it. Tossing the shirt into his otherwise very dark-coloured shopping basket, Sephiroth suddenly noticed that there were eyes on his back. He quickly turned to find Vincent casually browsing through another rack of clothes, looking very much disinterested in what the former general was doing. Sephiroth snorted softly. Valentine was a 1st-division Turk, no doubt about it.

When they brought their choices to Tseng, the dark-haired demon further confirmed his disinterest in clothes by paying attention only to the price-tag and whether the style and materials were too inappropriate for slaves. Sephiroth's T-shirt passed on all of those accounts, but they still had to report back to the Archdaemon for final approval. Tah'rh rolled her eyes on how much of their clothing were black ("I've seen _Watchers_ wear more colour than this!") and also how much leather there were and how many unnecessary belts and buckles the clothes had ("Not that I'm passing judgement on whatever kinks you're into..."). When she came to Sephiroth's T-shirt, she paused and raised an eyebrow at him. Sephiroth stood his ground and stared right back. She then shook her head and muttered something to herself about this is almost the exact kind of thing that "_he"_ would have picked, but otherwise did not object to their choices and approved everything.

Another thing that Vincent and Sephiroth found themselves surprisingly generously provided with—for slaves—was freedom of movement. They were unchained and unguarded, and did not wear collars or anything else that was enchanted with hexes. At first Sephiroth wondered about the apparent lack of anything that might prevent slaves from simply walking out of the palace door, but it soon became clear that even with no guards or chains to stop him, walking out of the Archdaemon's palace was no simple task. Many times he had found the hallways around their rooms completely empty and unguarded, and had tried to explore the palace and find one of its exits. But no matter which direction or route he took, he always found himself walking in circles in the seemingly endless hallways and end up right back in front of his own door. Sephiroth knew that it was not because he was wandering around aimlessly. The former general had an excellent sense of direction and remembered every turn he took. He even remembered the exact sequence of turns that Fah'yn had taken on that first day to lead them from Tah'rh's office to their rooms. Sephiroth had tried time and again to follow Fah'yn's route, but it was as if the hallways were alive and they shifted and molded themselves to lead him right back to where he began.

It was the same thing with the forest that surrounded their little guest suite. The trees were wild and dense, and were so tall that they blocked the sky. But Sephiroth had long since found that he could tell which direction he was heading in even without any of the visual aids that other people around him needed. And so even in featureless deserts, or dense forests such as this, he never came to walking in circles as other people did. But here, no matter how long he walked, he never was able to reach the other end of the forest. The trees just seemed to go on forever. However, he soon found that no matter how far or for how long he had walked into the forest, once he decided to give up and go back to his rooms, it would only take a few steps before the trees would recede to reveal the open space of the little garden by the porch.

Sephiroth had tried to get over the tree tops, but neither flying nor levitation worked. Levitation just refused to work properly and the air just wouldn't flow over his wings the right way. If he tried to climb any of the trees, then it was the same thing: the tree just seemed to go on forever, but when he decide to go back down, it took no time at all. Same with trying to climb the palace walls above the porch.

Sephiroth growled in frustration as he once again dropped back down to the ground. Of course he hadn't expected escaping from an Archdaemon's palace to be easy, but he'd have preferred his obstacles to be more...traditional...like chains and shackles and spells and armed guards. At least then he'd understand the nature of the things he must overcome.

The only things that the former general was able to find in the forest other than more baffling trees was a sizable clearing equipped with various dummies and bamboo stakes and other items ideal for sword training. He had also come upon another clearing equipped with bullseye targets and dummies that were obviously meant for target-practice for gunners, and he knew that Vincent had found it also. The two of them had been allowed to take their 'Duel and Screw' weapons back to their rooms with them, and Sephiroth brooded over how confident and unthreatened the demons seemed to feel about the armed slaves.

They've even been granted limited access to the Central Library. Vincent had subtly mentioned to Fah'yn about how he was prone to nightmares and that books take his mind elsewhere and help him sleep. Sephiroth had seen Vincent during his nightmares, and he knew that no book could really be of help. He knew that the ex-Turk was simply trying to practice reading the demon script and also to find out more about the world they were in. Fah'yn agreed right away to help them get some books, and the two men expected him to simply give them a few books on random, safe subjects. Neither of them had expected the young man to come back telling them that Tah'rh had agreed to allow them limited-access library accounts, and Nami the Circle Treasurer had agreed to take the two men along with her during her regular trips to the Central Library.


End file.
